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SHE  CONTIWDED  TO  CLING  TO  ABHS  THAT  STILL  CAST  HER  OFF 


AS 

Caesars  Wife 


A    NOVEL 


BY 


MARGARITA  SPALDING  GERRY 


AUTHOK  OF 

'the  toy  shop"  etc. 


ILLtJSTKATED  BY 
JAMES  MONTGOMERY  FLAGG 


HARPER   &    BROTHERS   PUBLISHERS 

NEW   YORK   AND    LONDON 

MCMXII 


Books  by 

MARGARITA  SPALDING  GERRY 

As  Cesar's  Wife.     Illustrated.     Post  8vo 

net 

$1.30 

The  Toy-Shop.     Illustrated.     16mo     ,     . 

net 

.50 

The  Fixjweks.     8vo 

net 

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Heart  and  Chart.     Dlustrated.     16mo  . 

net 
)RK 

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HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YC 

COPYRIGHT.    1912.    BY  HARPER   ft    BROTHERS 

PRINTED    IN   THE    UNITED    STATES   OF  AMERICA 
PUBLISHED  SEPTEMBER.    1912 

**  I-M 


t.^*^ 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


SHE    CONTINUED    TO    CLING    TO    ARMS    THAT    STFLL    CAST 

HEH  OFF Frontitpiect 

"there!      I   didn't   sat  GOOD-BT!      it   'lX,  keep  TILL  I 

COME  back" Facing  p.  46 

JUST    AS   HE   ALWAYS    DID    HE    CAUGHT    HEB   HAND    AND 

KISSED   IT "         104 

LYMAN  FELT  THAT  HE  HAD  THE  BIG  MAN  BACK  OF  HIM  "  140 
"l  AM  ASSOCIATE  COUNSEL  FOB  THE  PROSECUTION"  .  "  166 
"oh,  SIT  DOWN,  BJR.  WARD,  SIT  DOWN,"  SAID  MAYO  .  "  192 
SHE  CRIED  OUT  AND  SHIVERED  AWAY  FROM  HIS  TOUCH  **  240 
BOTH    WERE   REAUZING   THAT   THEY   WERE    ALONE      .      .       *'       290 


2135613 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 


CHAPTER  I 

AS  the  country  road  showed  signs  of  widen- 
-^*-  ing  into  the  boulevard  that  should  take 
them  into  the  heart  of  the  city  and  to  Mrs. 
Ward's  home,  Cowperthwaite  made  another 
effort  to  get  a  little  more  speed  out  of  the  ma- 
chine. But  when  he  threw  the  lever  over  to 
the  third  speed  and  there  was  no  answering 
throb  of  effort,  he  realized  again  that  the  mad- 
deningly deliberate  pace  at  which  they  were  near- 
ing  the  city  was  the  best  that  could  be  hoped 
for. 

He  took  the  wheel  with  his  left  hand  so  he 
could  stretch  out  his  cramped  right  arm  and 
flex  and  unflex  the  muscles  and  so  try  to  shake 
off  his  deadly  weariness.  A  gray  light  was 
sifting  through  the  darkness.  He  was  half 
relieved  and  half  abashed  to  realize  that  it  was 
the  dawn.     ChUl  and  pitiless  and  forbidding,  it 

[1] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

hinted  of  terrors  that  its  fuller  light  would  re- 
veal. Somewhere,  faintly,  a  clock  struck  the 
three-quarter  hour.  Cowperthwaite  gave  a  sto- 
len glance  at  his  watch — and  slid  it  back  into 
his  pocket,  wondering  if  the  woman  at  his  side 
knew  that  when  the  clock  next  struck  it  would 
be  four. 

But  Mrs.  Ward  gave  no  sign  of  knowledge  or 
of  feeling.  All  of  the  vivid  emotions  of  the  hours 
that  had  passed,  the  hope,  the  disappointment, 
the  renewed  expectancy,  and  the  later  flare  of 
feeling  had  ebbed  under  the  benumbing  weari- 
ness of  the  heavily  freighted  hours  and  left  her 
spent  and  tired.  If  any  desire  was  left  it  was 
merely  for  the  end  of  motion.  Ken's  comforting 
arms  and — peace.  Her  profile,  turned  to  Cow- 
perthwaite, with  the  fine  and  noble  austerity 
of  its  straight  lines  and  the  love-provoking 
witchery  of  its  curves,  was  a  pale  mask  of  en- 
durance, blanched  from  all  its  quick  play  of  light 
and  color  into  quiescence,  with  an  undershadow 
of  some  painful  thought  that  she  held  in  check. 

A  rut  in  the  road  jolted  her  heavily  against 
Cowperthwaite.  A  shudder  ran  over  her.  With 
an  uncontrollable  impulse  she  pulled  herself 
fiercely  away  from  him.  Then  with  the  later 
desire  of  civilization  to  atone  for  discourtesy 
she   said,    quickly : 

[2] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"Oh — I  beg  your  pardon!" 

But  the  man  had  understood.  His  keen  face 
was  dyed  with  a  flood  of  embarrassed  color. 
He  spoke  half  angrily: 

"Surely  you  have  no  reason  to  feel  that  way!" 

At  the  sound  of  his  voice  she  shuddered  again. 
The  mask  fell  and  she  turned  on  him  with  the 
hot  pride  of  the  elementally  pure  woman: 

"I  shall  never  be  able  to  touch  your  hand 
again  without  loathing!  And  hating  myself  for 
my  own  weakness.  To  think  I  couldn't  keep 
myself  from  the  stain  of  it!  That  horrible 
kiss!  When  I  am  Keris  wife!  When  will  I  be 
able  to  look  at  him — and  not  remember?" 

Cowperthwaite  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  a 
man's  carefully  cultivated  cynicism  in  matters 
of  sex.  The  lightness  made  ruthless  his  strong, 
subtle  face. 

"Oh — a  man  and  a  woman — alone  on  a  long 
motor  ride  —  a  kiss  or  two — "  he  said,  frivo- 
lously. 

She  challenged  him  almost  with  fury: 

"A  man — and  myself  alone  in  the  wilderness 
— if  I  choose!  How  dare  you  class  me  with 
other  women!"  And  the  exquisite  pride  in  her 
arrogant  strength  dazzled  the  man  from  his 
acquired  indulgence  back  to  his  racial  demand 
for  purity  in  a  woman.     His  rising  anger  was  a 

[3] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

greater  tribute  to  her  than  the  dawning  insolence 
of  his  admiration  had  been: 

"If  your  memory  stretches  back  some  years 
— contrary  to  the  habit  of  women,"  he  said, 
deliberately,  his  foot  on  the  brake  for  a  steep 
descent  of  the  misty  road,  "I  have  a  score  to 
settle.  There  was  that  time — a  century  back 
it  may  seem  to  you — when  you  had  promised 
to  marry  me.  I  think — ^maybe — the  recollec- 
tion of  that  had  something  to  do  with  this  night's 
work — " 

There  was  a  contemptuous  inference  in  her  face. 

"No,  no,  I  didn't  plan  this,"  he  assured  her, 
with  indignation.  "This  was  pure  chance.  The 
past  had  been  buried  deep  enough.  I  had  no 
thought  but  to  have  your  help  in  getting  hold 
of  Ken  so  he  could  catch  Remsen  before  he  got 
away —  Good  Lord!  You  must  have  a  pretty 
opinion  of  me  to  think  me  capable  of  a  trick! 
But  after  a  few  hours  of  this — especially  the 
latter  part — and  to  have  to  see  all  your  anxiety 
for  Ken — and  not  an  ounce  of  consideration  to 
spare  for  me — and  the  touch  of  your  shoulder 
now  and  then  when  the  confounded  road  jolted 
us  together-— all  that  started  me  to  thinking 
back  into  the  past.  It's  not  that  I  have  been 
brooding  in  solitude  over  it  much  of  the  time 
these  five  years — " 

14] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"You  don't  suppose  I  thought  that  for  a 
minute,"  she  interrupted  him,  proudly.  And 
he  paused  to  laugh  silently  over  the  feminine 
pique  which,  in  spite  of  her  bigness  of  nature 
and  the  revolt  of  all  her  instincts  against  him, 
lingered  in  her  voice. 

"A  man  doesn't  have  as  much  time  as  a 
woman  thinks,  perhaps,  for  that  sort  of  thing," 
he  assured  her  as  soon  as  he  could  speak  seriously. 
"But — to-night — the  moment — the  long  hours  to- 
gether— and  your  remembered  sweetness,  brought 
a  few  of  the  worst  things  in  me  to  the  surface,  I 
suppose." 

There  was  a  comfortable  absence  of  all  re- 
morsefulness  in  his  manner. 

"For  the  instant  it  seemed  imperative  that  I 
should  have  that  kiss — ^I  suppose  I  ought  to 
be  overcome  with  shame.  Indeed,  I'm  honestly 
sorry  if  I  have  hurt  you.  I  like  you,  you  know, 
all  these  things  apart.  You're  bully.  All  these 
months  you've  been  fighting  the  Ring  with  Ken 
like  a  man,  and  a  straight  one,  giving  your  time 
and  your  enthusiasm  just  for  a  principle.  You 
needn't  be  afraid.  I've  had  my  reprehensible 
fling-" 

"Don't  talk  that  way!" 

Some  color  had  come  into  her  face  with  her 
indignation.     He  observed  it. 

[5] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

*'Now  see  here" — he  turned  toward  her  and 
met  her  eyes  frankly — "I'm  not  going  to  think 
of  you  that  way  again.  But  if  you  expect  me 
to  be  very  seriously  remorseful  for  that  one  in- 
stant—  Come  now,  be  a  good  fellow!  It  was 
only  that  just  for  that  second  you  were  a  woman 
— not  a  friend — and  the  girl  I  was  once  mad 
about.  I'll  swear  to  you,  if  you  like,  that  I 
won't  repeat  it,  but  it's  beyond  me  to  repent  it. 
I  can't  help  it  if  you  are  in  a  rage  about  it;  it 
was  too  pleasant  for  repentance.     Honestly." 

Wonder  at  male  callousness  quenched  the 
flame  of  anger  in  her  face. 

"So  that  is  what  it  was  to  you?"  she  said, 
slowly.  "And  to  me  your  touch,  your  lips  with 
what  was  in  them,  your  kiss  of  your  friend's 
wife — it's  maddening  to  think  of.  Why,  Ken 
was  your  friend!" 

He  dropped  his  light  tone  as  the  memory  of 
the  old  injury  grew  more  vivid  to  him. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "my  'friend.'  But  he  was 
that  before  he  was  your  lover.  Much  that 
stopped  him  when  he  had  seen  you.  You  must 
remember,  before  we  drifted  together  in  this 
fight  last  fall  and  so  became  friends  again,  my 
*  friend'  had  been  your  husband — the  husband 
of  the  woonan  he  stole  from  me — ^for  four  years. 
Men's  friendship,"  he  repeated,  half  to  himself, 

[61 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

and  his  clever  face  fell  into  lines  of  intellectual 
abstraction,  "with  fairly  decent  men  like  us 
holds,  I  suppose,  against  most  things.  But 
how  long,  I  wonder,  does  it  ever  hold  before 
conflicting  claims  on  the  same  woman — even 
the  poor  shadows  most  of  them  are.  And  when 
it's  a  woman  like  you — " 

He  turned  to  survey  her  half  curiously.  Worn 
and  anxious  as  she  was,  all  the  mere  human  in 
the  appeal  of  her  beauty  was  banished  for  the 
moment  by  the  ravages  of  weariness  and  the 
traces  of  past  anger.  Even  the  ember  glow  of 
her  straying  hair  was  dulled  by  the  half  light 
into  duskiness.  Yet  somehow  she  incited  the 
cool-minded  man  beside  her  to  dreams  of  still 
happiness  and  to  the  passing  belief  that  there 
is  no  true  joy  but  to  wander  in  green  avenues 
with  the  woman  of  one's  love.  That  was  the 
spell  in  Ruth's  eyes  which  she  could  never  see 
herself. 

"When  it's  a  woman  like  you,"  he  went  on, 
"I  wonder  if,  years  after  the  love  itself  has  been 
buried,  the  wound  made  by  the  treachery  of 
your  taking  by  another  man  is  ever  healed." 

"There  was  no  treachery  on  Ken's  part." 
She  spoke  hotly.  "The  weakness  was  mine, 
but  it  was  in  having  ever  thought  I  loved  you. 
For  the  feeling  I  had  for  you  was  mere  senti- 

[71 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

mental  friendship  and  a  sort  of  craze  of  admira- 
tion for  your  cleverness.  It  would  have  been 
the  worst  injury  I  could  have  done  you  to  have 
married  you  when  Ken — ^just  by  looking  at  me — 
had  made  me  all  his.  You  probably  won't 
believe  that  we  were  sorry  that  we  hurt  you. 
I  think  that  almost  clouded  over  the  first  months. 
But  we  couldn't  doubt  for  a  moment  that  love 
like  ours  must  have  its  way.  It  has  always 
hurt  me,  although  I  knew  perfectly  that  you 
would  find  some  one  who  would  show  you,  as  I 
had  learned,  that  it  was  all  a  mistake.  And 
it  was  because  of  that  that,  to-night,  just  for  a 
little  while  before  you — ^you  kissed  me — I  was 
— ^foolish — too  sympathetic.  It's  for  that  one 
moment's  stupid — not  understanding — that  I 
shall  never  forgive  myself.  But,  of  course,  you 
can't  understand  how  it  shames  me." 

She  turned  from  him  for  a  brooding  interval. 
They  were  coming  to  a  more  thickly  settled 
part  of  the  city.  The  occasional  cheaply  built 
outlying  house,  with  its  little  plot  of  lawn  stand- 
ing out  against  the  untidy  stretches  of  half 
prairie,  half  city  common,  was  giving  way  to 
groups  of  pretty  houses  separated  only  by  trim 
hedges,  ghostly  soft  and  billowy  in  the  gray 
light-  While  she  followed  her  own  troubled 
thoughts  the  car  ran  more  smoothly  over  macad- 

18] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

amized  roads — over  asphalt.  In  place  of  com- 
panionable suburbs  came  crowded  rows  of  red- 
brick houses  with  an  occasional  outstanding 
one  of  stone.  The  lights  in  the  street-lamps 
glowed  more  and  more  pale  and  sickly  yellow. 
There  was  something  outlandish,  ghostly,  in 
the  sleeping,  unlighted  houses  and  the  flagging 
lamp  sentinels  of  the  street. 

At  last,  with  a  slight  swerving  of  the  motor, 
they  turned  into  the  upper  extremity  of  her 
own  street.  With  a  woman's  instinct  she  sat 
straighter,  endeavored  to  bring  some  order  out  of 
her  blown  and  tugging  veil,  and  the  untidy  masses 
of  her  hair,  wliipped  into  flying  strands  and  ten- 
drils by  the  restless  winds  of  many  dragging 
miles.  With  a  tired  sigh  she  gave  up  even  that 
attempt  to  restore  herseK  to  her  accustomed 
trimness  to  meet  her  husband's  eye. 

They  were  slipping  slowly  and  gently  down  the 
last  block  before  they  reached  her  house.  She 
caught  sight  of  it.  The  house  was  on  the  comer; 
there  was  one  light  in  it.  It  was  the  only 
dwelling  on  the  street  that  was  not  wrapped  in 
soft  darkness.  That  one  light  from  the  study 
window  at  the  side  stood  out  with  ominous, 
startling  threatening.  The  door  was  closed. 
There  was  no  sign  of  life  about  the  place.  She 
gazed  at  the  closed  door  with  sudden  terror. 

[9] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"Why,  what  does  that  mean?  We  always 
leave  that  door  open  these  sprmg  evenmgs  until 
we  go  to  bed!" 

She  was  only  half  conscious  that  she  spoke 
aloud,  so  overwhelming  was  her  panic. 

"It  looks  so  terribly  late.  Why,  the  street- 
lamps  are  going  out!  They  never  go  out  until 
morning!  Can  it  be  morning?  I  knew  it  was 
late.  But  I  never  thought  of  that — I  wonder 
where  Ken  is — " 

Cowperthwaite,  whose  eyes  had  been  fixed 
hard  in  front  of  him,  looked  at  her  sidewise.  It 
sounded  as  if  fear  of  her  husband  had  that  in- 
stant sprung  to  her  heart.  He  himself  had  very 
little  doubt  as  to  Ken's  state  of  mind.  He 
guessed  at  his  friend's  latent  capacity  for  jeal- 
ousy. 

"I  hope  he  hasn't  been  terribly  frightened 
about  me —  But  he  can't  be  or  he  would  be 
at  the  door!  There  are  so  many  motor  acci- 
dents, and  I'm  always  worried  about  him  if 
he  is  ever  so  little  late.  I  wish  we  could  have 
sent  him  some  more  definite  word — ^but  we  were 
so  sure  we  would  find  him  at  Leesburg.  It 
makes  me  frantic  to  think  how  he  must  have  wor- 
ried, and  I'm  always  cross  when  I  have  been 
worried  about  him.  I  wonder  if  every  one  is 
like  tnat.     I  suppose  it  is  because  one's  nerves 

[10] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

are  upset.  Where  can  Ken  be?  He  must  have 
got  home  by  this  time.  Why  isn't  he  here  so  I 
can  tell  him.''  I  wonder  if  he  has  gone  out  to 
look  for  me.  Oh,  'poor  boy!  I  know  he  has 
been  so  anxious — it  makes  me  ache  for  him — " 

The  clock  in  a  near-by  church  chimed  softly, 
under  its  breath  it  would  seem,  the  hour. 

"Fourr  she  gasped,  looking  at  Cowperthwaite 
in  unbelieving  terror. 

"Four  o'clock."  There  was  something  omi- 
nous in  the  fixed  gaze  with  which  he  held  her, 
wondering,  questioning  her  unconsciousness,  that 
childish  unconsciousness  of  a  pure  woman  which 
a  man  never  quite  believes  in.  There  was  a 
gleam  of  malicious  humor  somewhere  back  of 
the  seriousness  of  his  eyes  that  was  almost 
sinister  in  the  unkind  light  and  the  silent,  with- 
drawn street. 

"Four  o'clock,"  he  repeated,  solemnly,  as  the 
machine  slid  gently  to  rest  before  her  own  house. 
There  was  a  dawning  expectation  of  excitement 
in  his  face.  "Yes,  I  am  afraid  Ken  will  be — 
anxious."  Cowperthwaite  was  rapidly  summing 
up  in  his  own  mind  the  account  of  the  night's 
events  that  he  would  give  his  friend. 

With  a  cautious  avoidance  of  noise  the  door 
opened  and  a  man  came  out.  He  loomed  tall 
and   straight   and   dark   in   the  cold   light.     A 

2  [11] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

white  lock  in  his  black  hair  was  like  white-heat 
on  cold  iron. 

He  stood  at  the  top  of  the  flight  of  steps, 
surveying  leisurely  the  automobile  and  its  oc- 
cupants. Then  he  too  pulled  out  his  watch  and 
looked  at  it  lengthily,  turning  the  face  carefully 
to  catch  the  pale  glow  of  light  in  the  east.  At 
last,  with  a  curiously  stiff  and  clumsy  gait,  he 
came  down  the  steps. 


CHAPTER  n 

^T^HERE  is  nothing  more  ominous  than  the 
-*•  enforced  restraint  of  an  elemental  nature. 
Neither  his  wife  nor  his  friend  had  ever  seen  Ken 
Ward  before  when  word  and  action  had  not 
been  the  inevitable  outlet  of  the  forces  of  his  life. 
They  would  not  have  been  surprised  at  any  ex- 
pression of  turbulent  emotion — it  might,  after 
the  long  hours  of  watching  and  uncertainty, 
have  been  equally  joy  at  relief  from  anxiety  or 
anger  because  of  the  suspense  to  which  they  had 
subjected  him.  Cowperthwaite  half  expected 
some  furious  personal  attack. 

But  there  was  nothing.  Ward  silently  came 
to  the  side  of  the  motor,  put  out  his  hand  to 
help  his  wife  alight,  steadied  her  automatically 
and  impersonally  when,  cramped  by  long  sit- 
ting in  one  posture,  she  stumbled  on  alighting. 
In  silence  the  three  came  up  the  steps  together, 
Ward  ceremoniously  falling  back  so  the  two  could 
precede  him,  and  into  the  closed  and  somber 
house.  An  abortive  attempt  of  Mrs.  Ward's 
to  speak  outside  he  had  silenced  with  a  gesture. 

113] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

The  door  of  the  reception-room  was  closed,  the 
hall  still  in  darkness.  Finally  they  found  them- 
selves in  the  study,  where,  in  air  close  and  life- 
less from  being  long  shut  in,  the  reading-lamp 
burned  low. 

Mrs.  Ward  fell  into  a  chair  with  a  little  sigh 
of  fatigue.  But  Cowperthwaite  would  not  sit 
— he  was  waiting  for  Ward  to  speak.  The 
two  men  were  facing  each  other.  Ruth  was  a 
little  to  one  side.  Finally  Ward  raised  his  head 
and  looked  at  Cowperthwaite — expectantly.  It 
seemed  that  no  power  in  the  world  could  make 
the  husband  speak. 

The  strong  lines  of  Ward's  features  were 
harsh;  the  white  streak  in  his  black  hair — 
there  since  boyhood — ^glittered  as  the  lamplight 
touched  it;  his  face  was  Indian-like  in  its  swarth- 
iness;  a  diagonal  line  ran  from  each  nostril  to 
the  comers  of  his  compressed  mouth;  the  eyes 
which  usually  glowed,  rich  and  dark  with  every 
emotion,  were  lifeless  and  whity  brown. 

Still  he  waited.  Finally  Cowperthwaite  spoke. 
In  the  very  moment  of  speaking  he  smiled  to 
himself  at  the  impulse  which  made  his  voice, 
in  spite  of  his  effort,  apologetic  and  almost 
timid. 

"We  have  been  delayed.  Mrs.  Ward  did  not 
think  to  leaVe  word  where  we  had  gone  because 

[14] 


I 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

we  had  gone  in  search  of  you  and  expected  to 
find  you.     She  thought  you  were  at  Leesburg.'* 

He  paused.  There  was  no  change  of  expres- 
sion on  Ward's  face.  Only  tense  waiting. 
Cowperthwaite,  conscious  of  the  effort  to  make 
his  voice  more  natural,  went  on: 

*'I  am  sorry  you  have  had  all  this  anxiety. 
Mrs.  Ward  has  been  much  worried.  But  we 
have  had  bad  luck.     The  infernal  motor — " 

At  the  last  word  some  infinitely  ironical  amuse- 
ment seemed  to  come  to  Ward  and  he  broke 
his  silence. 

"Yes — the  motor — "  His  voice  clacked  dryly 
on  the  word.  "Fortunately  I  was  not  in  entire 
ignorance.  A  friend  of  mine  saw  you  start 
yesterday  afternoon.  He  was  not  sure  whether 
it  was  at  five  or  quarter  past.  I  didn't  wait  for 
him  to  decide.  But  he  was  sure  that  Mrs. 
Ward    was    with    you." 

"Didn't  Mary  tell  you  I  had  gone  out  driving? 
I  sent  word  to  her  not  to  wait  dinner  for  me. 
I  didn't  think  of  telling  you  because  we  expected 
to  find  you — '*  Mrs.  Ward's  appealing  eyes  were 
on  him  from  the  shadow  in  which  she  sat.  The 
memory  of  Cowperthwaite's  hateful  kiss  which 
she  couldn't  shake  off  was  oppressing  her.  It 
made  her  begin  to  understand,  what  would  other- 
wise have  seemed  impossible  to  her,  that  it  might 

[15] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

be  some  jealous  anger  of  Cowperthwaite  that  was 
making  Ken  act  so.  Some  scenes  of  their  court- 
ship came  to  her  mind,  and  she  shivered  with 
dread. 

He  didn't  look  at  her,  although  he  answered: 

"That  is  what  Cowperthwaite  said,  I  believe. 
But  I  had  no  talk  with  Mary.  It  was  late  when 
I  got  home  and  I  knew  then  with  whom  you 
were.     So  I  sent  her  off." 

"Now  see  here.  Ken,"  said  Cowperthwaite, 
decidedly.  "Suppose  you  do  the  judicial  act 
and  suspend  judgment  until  I  have  told  you  the 
whole  story." 

"Yes,"  said  Ward,  with  a  smile  that  was  not 
becoming.    "  Let  us  by  all  means  have  your  story." 

Cowperthwaite  found  that  he  had  to  contend 
with  a  rising  irritation.  But  he  controlled  him- 
self, telling  himself  that  Ken  had  the  right  to 
all  the  infernal  contempt  that  was  in  his  face 
if  he  thought — ^but  confound  it! — what  right 
had  he  to  think  that?  In  the  effort  to  get  every- 
thing out  of  his  mind  but  a  straightforward 
narrative  of  the  night's  incidents,  he  seated  him- 
self and  bent  forward  to  enforce  each  detail  on 
the  man  who  waited. 

"Yesterday  afternoon,  after  you  had  left  me, 
BrowTi  came  to  my  office  with  the  news  that  he 
had  succeeded  at  last  in  locating  Remsen.     I 

[16] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

nearly  jumped  out  of  my  chair  when  he  said  that 
Remsen  was  to  be  sent  back  to  the  old  country, 
sail  to-morrow — to-day,  I  mean;  funds  probably 
supplied  by  Mayo.  But  the  stunning  point  was 
that  he  had  shadowed  Remsen  to  the  house  of 
some  friends  out  at  Rawlings,  where  he  was 
going  to  be  last  night.  Brown  had  tried  to  get 
hold  of  you,  of  course,  then  Wilson.  Couldn't 
find  either.  Thought,  since  we  had  been  hand  in 
glove  in  this  business,  I  might  know  where  you 
were.  Was  in  a  state  of  mind  because  he  had 
had  his  orders  not  to  leave  Remsen  wherever 
he  went;  he  had  preparations  to  make  if  he  had 
got  to  cross  with  him;  didn't  see  how  he  could 
get  off  and  follow  you  up,  too. 

"I  sent  him  off  to  make  his  arrangements  and 
told  him  I  would  look  you  up.  I  knew,  of 
course,  that  Remsen's  testimony  was  the  crux 
in  this  whole  fight  of  the  city  against  Mayo.  I 
did  a  little  swearing  just  then  that  my  appoint- 
ment as  counsel  to  assist  you  was  still  tied  up 
in  red  tape.  If  that  had  been  made  I  could  have 
just  clapped  a  subpoena  on  Remsen  and  it  would 
have  been  all  right.  But  I  thought  I  could  get 
hold  of  you  easily  enough.  Well — I  called  you 
up  at  the  house,  at  the  club,  every  place  wliere  I 
thought  you  might  be.  Mrs.  Ward  was  out, 
too,  so  I  couldn't  get  anything  from  her." 

117] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

There  had  been  no  sign  from  Ward  during  the 
whole  of  the  recital.  Even  when  Cowperthwaite 
spoke  of  the  appointment,  and  Ward  could  have 
told  him  that  it  had  been  made  the  afternoon 
Cowperthwaite  had  left.  Ward  gave  no  sign. 
His  remorseless  eyes  fixed  on  the  other  man  wait- 
ed always  for  more.  But  at  the  mention  of  his 
wife's  name  a  quiver  ran  over  him  and  he 
moistened  his  dry  lips. 

"Then  I  had  the  machine  brought  around  and 
drove  about  the  streets  a  bit,  hoping  I  might  run 
into  you  or  see  some  one  who  could  tell  me  some- 
thing about  you.  It  was  then  that  I  met  Mrs. 
Ward—" 

Again  Ward  winced  at  the  use  of  his  wife's 
name.  He  blindly  felt  his  way  to  his  big  desk- 
chair  and  crouched  down  in  it,  his  eyes  never 
leaving  Cowperthwaite.  Mrs.  Ward,  taking  his 
relaxation  as  a  sign  that  the  sinister  something 
that  had  kept  her  dazed  was  lifting,  rose  to  go 
to  him.  But  a  peremptory  motion  of  her  hus- 
band's hand  held  her  and  she  sat  down  again. 

Cowperthwaite  went  on  in  his  dispassionate 
voice: 

"Mrs.  Ward  said  that  you  had  'phoned  her 
that  you  were  going  out  to  Leesburg,  that  there 
was  an  important  witness  out  there  who  had 
promised  at  last  to  talk.     She  was  sure  she  could 

[18] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

locate  the  house — you  had  pointed  it  out  to  her 
once,  but  she  couldn't  remember  the  man's  name 
or  the  street.  But  approaching  it  from  the  direc- 
tion you  had  taken  we  figured  out  we  could 
find  it—" 

"So  you — utilized  the  opportunity.  And  you 
couldn't,  I  suppose,  have  taken  some  one  with 
you — your  chauffeur?"  The  rasping  voice,  with 
its  undercurrent  of  hateful  suspicion,  was  one 
that  neither  Cowperthwaite  nor  Mrs.  Ward  had 
ever  heard  Ken  use  before,  except  perhaps  in 
the  examination  of  some  corrupt  witness  who 
could  be  reached  only  through  fear.  Cowper- 
thwaite, accustomed  to  the  respect  his  career 
had  earned,  colored  with  anger.  But  before  he 
spoke  his  sense  of  justice  pled  for  the  man: 

"There  wasn't  any  time  to  hunt  him  up;  he 
was  home  sick,"  he  had  said  when  Ward  broke 
in  with  harsh  impatience: 

"Get  on  with  your  story." 

"But,  Ken,  you  remember  telling  me  you  were 
going  out  to  Leesburg?" 

Mrs.  Ward's  voice  came  tremulously  out  of 
her  soft  shadow.  "Weren't  we  right  in  trying 
to  find  you?" 

Her  husband  did  not  look  at  her. 

"Let  Cowperthwaite  tell  his  story — first,"  he 
said. 

[191 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"We  got  out  to  Leesburg  in  good  time;  it  was 
just  six  when  we  pulled  up  and  it's  almost  twenty 
miles.  It  took  us  half  an  hour  to  locate  the  house. 
But  you  had  left—" 

"Exactly,"  put  in  Ward,  still  with  the  sar- 
donic smile  on  his  face.  Cowperthwaite  chal- 
lenged sharply: 

"You  did  go  to  Leesburg,  I  believe.  Mrs. 
Ward  was  not  misinformed — " 

"Leave  my  wife's  name  out  of  the  conversa- 
tion!"    Ward  spoke  with  a  burst  of  fury. 

"Will  you  kmdly  tell  me  how  to  do  it?'* 
Cowperthwaite  was  losing  his  temper  rapidly, 
but  he  made  another  effort  at  coolness.  "You 
can  easily  find  out  whether  we  were  there  at  that 
time,"  he  said,  with  curt  civility. 

"I  have  no  doubt  you  were — it  is  a  pleasant 
drive  to  Leesburg." 

Ward's  tone  was  little  short  of  maddening. 
But  Cowperthwaite  went  on  with  dogged  de- 
termination to  get  through  his  story.  "If  he 
still  chooses  then  to  be  a  fool,"  his  unspoken 
thought  went  on,  "it's  his  responsibility,  not 
mine." 

"At  Leesburg  they  said  you  had  gone  out 
into  the  country  twenty  miles  distant  to  find  a 
man  who  would  back  up  what  they  had  told  you. 
We  found  his  house  without  much  diflBculty,  but 

[20] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

you  had  not  been  there.  And  it  took  us  until 
eight  to  get  there.  It  was  on  the  drive  back 
that  our  troubles  began.  First  I  found  we  were 
going  to  run  out  of  gasolene  and  had  to  go  miles 
out  of  our  way  to  get  some.  The  next  event  was 
a  puncture  and  I  wasn't  carrying  a  fresh  tire. 
The  nearest  garage  was  off  the  main  road; 
we  had  to  leave  the  machine  and  walk  half  a 
mile  or  so  to  get  to  it.  It  was  ten  by  the  time 
we  were  fixed  up  and  off  again.  Finally,  to 
avoid  running  into  a  belated  farm-wagon,  we 
collided  with  a  telegraph  pole  and  the  machine 
was  badly  smashed  up.  If  we  hadn't  been 
running  pretty  slowly  at  the  time  we  would 
both  have  been  seriously  hurt.  As  it  was, 
we  got  off  with  a  few  scratches.  The  driver 
of  the  wagon  towed  us  into  the  nearest  town, 
and  there  I  left  the  wreck  and  took  another 
motor.  The  town  happened  to  be  where 
Remsen  was,  so  we  saw  him  while  we  waited. 
I'll  tell  you  about  that  later.  That  was  at 
Rawlings,  forty  miles  from  here.  It  was  nearly 
twelve  before  the  man  there  got  us  fixed  up. 
He  had  gone  to  bed  and  it  took  half  an  hour  to 
make  him  understand  what  we  wanted.  So  at 
last  we  started  home — " 

"You  couldn't  have  put  my  wife  on  the  cars 
and  come  home  alone.'*"     Ward's  manner  was 

[21] 


AS   CAESAR'S    WIFE 

perfunctory,  as  of  a  man  who  knows  the  answer 
before  he  asks. 

"Why,  I  did  inquire  about  trains."  Cowper- 
thwaite  spoke  with  some  confusion,  remember- 
ing that  his  perversity  had  overtaken  him  at 
that  stage  and  he  hadn't  really  wanted  to  find 
one.  "There  were  none  until  one,  and  I  hardly 
thought  you  would  have  cared  to  have  your 
wife  left  to  make  her  way  home  alone  from  a 
locality  where  there  are  as  many  toughs  as  abide 
there.     Moreover — " 

"I  understand — it  was  consideration,"  said 
Ward,  with  a  sneer. 

"There  is  nothing  more  to  the  story  except 
that  the  machine  I  had  acquired  developed  a 
speed,  at  its  best,  of  not  more  than  ten  miles  an 
hour.  The  roads  between  Rawlings  and  the 
city  are  rotten,  and,  as  I  said,  it's  a  good  forty 
miles.  That  accounts,  I  believe,*  fully,  for  the 
delay." 

Cowperthwaite  stopped  speaking.  His  eyes 
coolly  fixed  on  Ward,  awaiting  what  he  should 
do.  The  other  man  brooded,  still  with  that  fixed 
ominous  constraint.  Ruth,  feeling  that  surely 
by  this  time  much  of  Ken's  unhappy  jealousy 
must  have  vanished,  came  softly  forward  and 
smoothed^the  threatening  white  lock  back  into 
proper    obscurity — a    caress    time-honored    and 

122] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

invariably  effective.  But  he  moved  his  head  im- 
patiently and  the  gentle  hand  fell,  repulsed. 
Being  a  somewhat  proud  and  only  occasionally 
docile  young  woman,  she  went  back  to  her 
obscurity,  thinking,  with  hurt  indignation: 

"I  don't  see  why  Ken  should  be  so  unreason- 
able about  it.  Surely  we  couldn't  have  done 
anything  else.  I  wonder  if  he  knows  how  tired 
I  am." 

But  the  pleading  touch  had  had  its  effect. 
Moreover,  the  elemental  fury  that,  storm  after 
storm,  had  swept  over  him  during  the  long 
hours  of  waiting,  was  sinking;  Cowperthwaite's 
manner,  the  reasonableness  of  the  account, 
deep-seated  reverence  for  his  wife,  had  begun 
to  have  some  weight.  The  destructive  rage 
that  he  had  with  pain  held  in  check  when  he 
had  met  the  motor  was  ebbing.  After  a  few  more 
moments  of  the  lessened  strain,  of  the  blessed 
knowledge  that  Ruth  was  back,  unharmed, 
looking  at  him  pleadingly  with  her  faithful  eyes 
— eyes  proud  for  the  rest  of  the  world,  sub- 
missive for  him  alone — and  he  was  ready  with 
whole-hearted  generosity  to  confess  himself  a 
fool.  The  knowledge  of  his  wife's  purity  was 
rising  in  him,  beating  in  upon  his  incredible 
suspicion  of  her,  in  wave  after  wave  of  splendid 
passion. 

[23] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

t 

In  the  glow  of  it  Ward  turned  to  Cowper- 
thwaite  and  gave  him  a  hearty  fist.  It  would 
have  taken  a  man,  and  a  friend,  to  know  that 
his  averted  eyes  and  the  hasty  pressure  of  his 
hand  meant  that  Ken  was  ashamed  of  his  insane 
jealousy  and  relied  upon  a  man's  understanding 
of  it  for  indulgence.  But  Cowperthwaite  did 
know.  He  wrung  the  hand  Ward  had  held 
out  to  him,  and  got  himself  out  of  the  room  as 
expeditiously  as  he  could. 

Outside,  he  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief. 
Then  he  laughed: 

"Old  Ken  wouldn't  be  a  pleasant  person  to 
meet  if  a  man  had  anything  more  than  a  min- 
ute's damned  idiocy  on  his  conscience,"  he  said 
lightly  to  himself. 


CHAPTER  III 

AS  the  door  closed  after  Cowperthwaite, 
-^~*-  Ward  turned  his  eyes  to  look,  for  the  first 
time  since  her  coming,  full  at  his  wife.  The 
glow  of  his  passion  of  belief  was  still  with  him, 
the  passion  of  his  remorse.  But  she  sat  brood- 
ingly,  her  head  on  her  hand,  her  eyes  on  the 
floor.  The  sinister  cloud  that  was  over  every- 
thing had  taken  her  thoughts  back  to  the  scene 
she  wanted  only  to  forget.  Surely,  it  was, 
somehow,  her  fault  that  that  thing  had  come  to 
her.  She  was  feeling  dishonored,  tainted.  Some- 
thing in  her  air  of  spent  fatigue,  of  evident  de- 
pression, the  absence  of  her  usual  buoyant  be- 
lief in  herself,  startled  him  out  of  his  new-found 
security. 

"Ruth,"  he  said,  softly,  possessed  by  a  sudden, 
crazy  fear,  a  craving  to  meet  her  eyes  and  read  in 
them,  as  always,  that  there  was  nothing  in  the 
whole  world  that  could  come  between  him  and 
her.  She  raised  her  head,  but  there  was  some- 
thing that  veiled  her  eyes. 

"Ruth,"  he  said,  demanding.     She  smiled  at 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

him,  doing  her  best  to  reach  him.  He  knew 
there  was  hidden  knowledge  in  her  heart  that 
stood  between. 

Again  the  storm  of  his  passion  was  rising. 
But  his  voice  was  quiet  and  gentle,  as  one  speaks 
when  one  would  not  awaken  some  sleeping 
thing: 

"Cowperthwaite's  story  is  as  it  happened? 
In  all  these  hours  you  can  say — ^you  have  never 
told  me  a  word  that  was  not  true — Cowper- 
thwaite's  story  was — ?" 

Those  true  and  beautiful  eyes  would  let  him 
go  no  farther.  His  speech  stopped — for  very 
awe  of  her.  But  his  agonized  eyes  still  ques- 
tioned. Then — most  impossible  and  most  hor- 
rible thing  in  the  world — he  saw  a  tide  of  crimson 
rise  from  her  full  white  throat,  damnedly  beau- 
tiful in  the  low-cut  frock,  he  thought,  with  a 
rush  of  hot  blood  to  his  own  face.  As  he  watched 
it  with  a  fearful  fascination — everything  that 
was  great  and  good  in  Kenneth  Ward  was  swept 
away  before  the  hurricane  of  his  rage.  In  an 
instant  he  was  transported — a  beast — a.  devil. 
He  made  a  blind  rush  toward  her. 

"It  was  just  a — an  impulse,"  she  was  trying 
to  say,  the  shamed  red  still  in  her  face,  but 
fronting  him  bravely.  "Just  a  silly  memory. 
He   regrets   it — and — I   blame   myself — I   hate 

[26] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

myself  —  I  never  dreamed  I  could  be  so  dis- 
loyal." 

Ward  gave  a  hoarse,  choked  cry.  The  last 
word  meant,  inevitably,  the  worst  to  him.  Rage 
transported,  blinded,  deafened  him.  He  never 
heard  the  low,  hesitating  words  in  which  she 
told  him  what  had  happened.  The  outraged, 
defrauded  male  in  him  was  filling  his  ears  with 
the  clamor  of  the  demand  for  vengeance.  He 
drove  the  very  sound  of  her  voice  away  from 
him.  But  Ruth  went  bravely,  determinedly  on, 
thinking  that  he  understood. 

That  confession  of  the  small  weakness,  to  her 
entire  whiteness  so  black,  could  mean  to  him  the 
confession  of  a  crime,  unfaithfulness  to  vows  she 
could  not  conceive  of  breaking,  never  dawned 
upon  her.  She  continued  to  cling  to  arms  that 
still  cast  her  off  and  gasp  out  pleadings  that  fell 
upon  his  fury  like  brave  new  fuel  for  the  flames. 

Ward  flung  her  finally  from  him.  Then  a  little 
wondering,  hurt  sound  that  escaped  from  her 
pierced  through  the  murky  cloud  in  which  he  was. 
He  realized  what  he  had  done.  With  a  terrific 
effort  he  tried  to  calm  himself. 

For  a  time  he  stood  silent,  his  great  chest 

heaving,  crowding  back  into  a  moment's  decent 

truce  the  naked  passions   that  had   torn  him. 

Then,  at  last,  he  managed  to  gulp  out  some  sort 

3  [271 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

of  an  expression  of  regret,  and  asked  her  to  leave 
him  for  a  moment  so  he  could  "think  things 
over.**  He  motioned  toward  the  next  room 
with  a  jerk  of  the  chin. 

Ruth,  too  stunned  to  feel  anything  clearly, 
obeyed  him,  feeling  vaguely  that  Ken's  anger 
was  beyond  all  reason.  Ward  stood  where  she 
had  left  him,  staring  darkly  at  the  floor. 


CHAPTER  IV 

SOME  minutes  after  she  had  left  Ward  raised 
his  head  and  looked  blankly  around  the 
room.  The  momentary  ebbing  of  his  passion 
had  left  him  flabby;  nerves  and  will  hung  slack. 
It  was  the  mood  in  which  one  catches  at  the 
irrelevant  detail  and  dwells  upon  it  with  almost 
tender  interest,  feeling,  vaguely,  that  here  is 
refuge.  So  he  snapped  out  the  light  of  the 
reading-lamp.  He  raised  the  shades  higher  and 
flung  the  windows  open,  commenting  in  his  own 
mind  on  the  freshness  of  the  early  morning. 

"But  I  must  think,"  he  said,  conscientiously. 
Still,  he  came  back  to  his  desk  with  as  many 
loiterings  by  the  way  as  when,  still  a  school-boy, 
he  prodded  his  unwilling  brain  to  study  while 
his  heart  was  outside  with  the  sunny  hillsides 
and  the  leaping  fish.  His  attention  caught 
at  the  orderly  piles  of  documents  on  his  desk, 
held  together  with  rubber  bands,  or  kept  from 
straying  with  paper-weights — all  Ruth's  doing. 
He  caught  himself  with  a  reproving  frown  at  the 
thought  and  forced  himself  back  to  the  con- 

[29] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

templation  of  the  papers — the  Macarthy  case — 
the  Oleson — the  steadily  accumulating  pile  re- 
lating to  Boss  Mayo  himself — it  needed  little 
to  clinch  the  case  against  him. 

He  took  from  his  pocket  the  notes  as  to  tes- 
timony he  had  secured  that  day  at  Leesburg 
before — they  said  they  had  gone  to  the  little 
country  town  to  find  him.  The  frown  came  on 
his  forehead  again  because  the  unwelcome 
thought  had  intruded  before  the  moment  that 
he  had  settled  with  himself  to  take  it  up.  He 
placed  the  notes  safely  in  a  pigeonhole  of  his 
desk  and  then  busied  himself  by  doing  the  same 
with  all  the  others,  first  going  over  them  and 
arranging  them  with  scrupulous  care. 

In  sorting  them — it  was  somehow  imperative 
that  his  desk  should  be  cleared  before  he  could 
settle  down  to  think — he  came  across  one  draft 
of  a  letter  which  was  to  be  manifolded  and  sent 
to  various  members  of  the  Mayo  ring  whom  they 
hoped  to  frighten  into  turning  State's  evidence. 
Automatically  he  started  to  put  it  on  the  type- 
writer-table by  the  window,  where  Ruth  had  been 
giving  many  hours  of  her  busy  day  to  his  work. 
There  had  been  more  detail  than  he  and  his 
assistants  could  manage,  and  to  a  poor  man  the 
saving  of  a  stenographer's  salary  was  a  con- 
sideration.   ^Moreover,  no  clerk  that  could  be 

[301 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

secured  could  be  worth  as  much  as  Ruth,  with 
her  quick  intelligence  and  her  enthusiasm.  He 
hesitated  at  the  typewriter.  It  was  full  of 
association  with  her.  That  visible  sign  of  her 
brought  it  all  back.  With  one  despairing  look 
around  the  room,  clearly  visible  now  in  the  new 
light,  with  the  homely  attractiveness  into  which 
hard  hours  of  companionable  work  had  worn  it, 
he  buried  his  black  head  in  his  hands  and  tried 
to  force  his  benumbed  brain  to  think. 

"What  did  Cowperthwaite  say?  Damn  him!" 
Again  his  mind  sheered  off  before  the  unbearable 
thought  that  followed.  He  clutched  his  head 
while  the  white  lock  gleamed  silvery  against  the 
dull  red  of  his  temples.  "Somehow  I  must  get 
at  the  truth  of  this.     Why  can't  I  think?" 

With  a  sense  of  fresh  escape  from  the  agony 
that  lay  near  the  thought  of  Ruth  his  thoughts 
rebelled  again,  deflected  by  the  sight  of  an  old 
inkstand,  the  gift  of  Will  Cowperthwaite  in  some 
boyish  Christmas-time.  And  the  soul  of  the  man, 
tempest-tossed  between  stubborn  hope  and  stub- 
born hatred,  was  at  peace  for  the  moment,  calmed 
by  the  wanderings  of  his  memory. 

He  was  in  the  little  Michigan  town  of  his 
boyhood,  with  its  sparse  settlement  of  Eastern 
families  and  its  host  of  Norwegian  peasants. 
He  sat  in  the  bare,  primitive  school  where  Will 

[811 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

Cowperthwaite  and  he  were  the  leaders,  the 
"smartest  boys  in  school,"  rivals  and  friends 
always,  neck  to  neck  in  mischief  and  in  study. 
Boyish  escapades  and  ambitions  thronged  into 
his  mind — ^shared  during  the  trudging  hours  of 
return  from  Saturday's  fishing  or  high  and  dry  on 
a  bank  sunning  brown  legs  after  an  hour's  swim- 
ming—  shamefaced  promises  of  lasting  friend- 
ship, dreams  exchanged  of  what  they  would  do 
when  they  were  men — shared  glimpses  into  the 
hidden  holy  of  holies  of  a  boy's  heart.  Almost 
joyously  a  wave  of  belief  in  his  friend  swept  over 
him — Will  Cowperthwaite  could  never  have  done 
a  thing  that  wasn't  white! 

Then  his  mood  changed — he  had  seen  too  much 
of  the  lives  of  other  men  to  have  it  last.  He 
remembered  the  blackness  of  the  hate  he  had 
felt  for  one  ugly  instant  when  it  was  announced 
that  Will  Cowperthwaite — ^not  he — had  won  the 
school  prize  that  they  had  both  been  working 
for. 

"Good  God!"  he  whispered,  suddenly.  "Per- 
haps when  I  took  Ruth  away  from  him  he  felt 
like  that!"  And  he  built  up  for  himself  again, 
as  he  had  during  the  awful  hours  of  waiting,  a 
picture  of  Cowperthwaite  during  all  these  later 
friendly  years  with  that  evil  thing  lurking  in  his 
heart.     "And  I  played  right  into  his  hands," 

[32] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

he  thought,  despising  himself  for  his  foolish 
confidence.  "As  if  any  man  could  forget  — 
her!" 

Again  his  thoughts  drifted  moodily — wisps  of 
recollection  out  of  the  wild  years  in  the  Yukon — 
picture  after  picture — forgotten  during  the  years 
of  practice  of  a  law-exalting  profession  among 
men  whose  passions,  tamed  or  hidden,  offered 
the  illusion  of  an  ordered  world.  The  face  of  a 
chap  who  was  once  his  partner  when  they  came 
upon  some  straggler  trying  to  jump  their  claim; 
the  stem  relentlessness  of  the  posse  of  men  come 
to  string  up  the  poor  boy  who  had  proved  to  be 
the  camp  thief;  the  still  vengeance  of  a  man — 
what  was  his  name  now?  He  wanted  help  to 
burj^  his  wife,  smiling  with  a  bullet  through  her 
heart,  beside — the  other  man.  That  man — and 
all  the  others  of  untainted  manhood — would 
never  have  hesitated  as  he  had  done,  weigh- 
ing pros  and  cons  which  might  dip  the  balance 
wrongly  and  so  let  the  guilty  go.  There  were 
his  strong,  bare  hands  if  need  be.  He  stretched 
them  out  and  sat  looking  at  them  with  a  curious 
interest,  working  the  great  tense  fingers  like  the 
claws  of  a  crouching  cat. 

What  were  the  words  Cowperthwaite  had  used 
when  he  came  that  day  upon  him  and  Ruth — 
the  day  she  had  said  she  loved  him.'*     He  had 

[33] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

been  back  just  one  week  in  Midland.  But  that 
one  week  had  been — gloriously — enough! 

"Why  didn't  he  fight  me  then?  I  would  have 
given  him  his  revenge,"  Ward  muttered  to  him- 
self. "But — ^good  Lord!  When  a  man  and  a 
woman  love  each  other  that  way  there  isn't  any- 
thing else  to  do!  Better  then  than  later!"  But 
still  Cowperthwaite's  face  flashed  on  him  out  of 
the  past  as  Ruth  and  he  had  swept  by  him,  love- 
delirious.     It  had  been  tense  and  white. 

So  this  is  the  way  he  took!  Well,  Ward  ad- 
mitted the  method  was  one  of  the  simplest,  most 
primitive  justice!  But,  after  all,  could  it  be  so? 
Could  it  be  possible  that  Will  Cowperthwaite 
all  these  years  had  been  harboring  a  sinister 
passion  for  vengeance?  Had  the  last  months  of 
splendid  struggle  to  free  the  city  from  the  im- 
clean  growths  that  were  throttling  her  been 
nothing  but  a  pretense  to  bring  Cowperthwaite 
nearer  to  the  wife  of  the  honest  prosecutor  that 
the  city  had  at  last  raised  up?  Had  the  hearty, 
brotherly  hand-clasp  that — ^next  to  his  wife's 
love — had  been  the  reward  of  a  day  of  tedious 
fighting  been  mere  clever  acting  to  cover  up  a 
purpose  more  corrupt  than  any  that  they  sought 
to  punish?  Ward's  reason  revolted  from  the 
conclusion.  And  yet  the  recollection  flashed  upon 
the  tormerrted  man  that  once,  two  years  after  a 

[34] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

playmate  had  shown  Will  some  small  treachery, 
he  had  remembered  and  had  "paid  him  back." 

Ward  jumped  up.  He  couldn't  endure  to  sit 
still  with  the  ugly,  feverish  thoughts.  Although 
he  half  knew  they  were  impossible,  they  came  to 
him  each  time  in  the  guise  of  irrefutable  truth. 
He  clasped  his  hands  tight  behind  him  to  keep 
them  from  threshing  the  air  about  him  in  his 
torture.  Somehow  the  small  restraint  bore  its 
fruit  in  stUling  the  inner  tumult  for  a  moment. 
So,  for  the  first  time,  he  thought  with  some 
measure  of  calmness. 

"Suppose  you  suspend  judgment,"  Cowper- 
thwaite  had  said. 

That  was  fair  enough.  Will  Cowperthwaite 
would  know,  if  there  was  proof  of  guHt  to  be 
had,  his  friend  would  have  it.  "Will  is  no 
coward,"  thought  Ward.  "And,  after  all,  if  re- 
venge was  what  he  wanted,  wouldn't  he  boast 
of  it,  not  deny  it,  now.'^"    The  doubt  calmed  him. 

Then  a  very  torrent  of  craving  tenderness  came 
over  Ward,  an  agony  of  longing  to  keep  on  the 
throne,  where  he  had  placed  her,  the  woman  of 
his  love.  Into  his  stormy,  half-lawless  life  Ruth 
had  come,  sign  of  all  earth's  power  of  goodness. 
He  had  welcomed  her,  instantaneously,  as  the 
expression  of  all  that  was  high  and  lovely;  he  had 
stood  still  to  worship  when  each  intruding  thought 

[35  1 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

of  her  had  flashed  into  some  crowded  instant  of 
his  life;  her  standards  had  become  his  own;  she 
alone  kept  the  key  to  his  conscience;  all  of  his 
enthusiasm  for  right-doing  was  based  upon  the 
idolatrous  conviction  that  his  wife  could  not  even 
think  anything  wrong — when — timidly  as  men 
like  him  must  always  do — ^he  prayed,  it  was  that 
he  might,  years  hence,  deserve  her  whiteness. 
With  the  threat  of  that  throne's  toppling,  all  of 
earth  and  heaven  reeled  around  the  man.  No, 
God  help  him,  he  would  not  act  till  he  was  sure. 

"That  story,"  he  braced  himself  for  thought. 
"  How  does  it  fit  together?"  Link  by  link,  the  de- 
taU  of  hour  by  hour,  he  went  over  it.  Six  o'clock 
when  they  got  to  Leesburg;  half  past  when  they 
had  found  he  had  left;  an  hour  to  cover  the  dis- 
tance to  find  the  man  who  was  supposed  to  back 
up  the  testimony;  he  thought  that  place  was 
Beltsville.  Then  miles  out  of  the  way  to  get 
gasolene;  the  business  of  the  tire;  the  collision 
and  the  long  delay  at  Rawlings.  Will  said  they 
had  to  change  machines. 

Ward  recalled  the  machine — ^yes,  he  remem- 
bered it  wasn't  Cowperthwaite's.  It  had  looked 
just  about  ready  for  the  scrap-heap,  too.  The 
story  hung  together  very  well.  If  it  might  be 
true!  And  he  could  rethrone  Ruth  and  look  out 
and  find  the  sky  still  of  the  same  color! 

[36] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"If  it  were  not  true,  if  she  had  been — ^guilty — 
if  I  should  kill  Cowperthwaite — what  of  her? 
Her  life  blasted,  shamed!"  His  own  agony- 
seemed  small  beside  the  horror  that  he  con- 
jured up!  Was  the  crazy  delight  of  vengeance 
worth  a  single  hurt  throb  of  her  heart? 

The  story  did  hang  together.  It  might  very 
well  have  happened.  Was  it  possible  for  any 
woman  who  had  seemed  what  she  was — been 
what  she  was — because  of  one  temptation — 
Wby,  it  would  have  been  a  temptation  only  if 
she  loved  Cowperthwaite — and  she  had  proved 
that  she  didn't.  Oh — he  could  believe  it!  The 
deadly  cloud  was  rising.  There  was  no  need  for 
suffering.  He  could  draw  a  wholesome  breath 
again. 

"Thank  God!"  he  said  aloud,  in  a  frenzy  of 
gratitude.  "She  is  innocent.  /  won't  have  to 
hate  her!'* 

For  one  instant  he  knew  absolute  joy. 

Then  cruelly  the  picture  of  her  came  before 
him,  with  her  eyes  downcast  and  that  shamed 
and  agonizing  blush — 

"Oh — oh-h-h — I  had  forgotten.  Why,  she  her- 
self confessed  itf  Her  words  returned  to  him. 
The  trivial  words  she  used  to  express  the  blackest 
crime  in  sin's  calendar,  the  most  damning  evi- 
dence of  her — lightness.     "I  wouldn't  have  be- 

[37] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

lieved  it  from  any  lips  but  hers.  'Just  an  im- 
pulse.' God!  *A  silly  memory'  —  'he  regrets 
it' — 'I  blame  myself' — 'I  hate  myself  for  my 
disloyalty.' " 

Ward  had  been  without  food  for  a  long  time, 
exhausted  by  his  many  hours  of  suffering,  too 
overwhelmed  with  misery  and  rage  to  act  at  the 
moment  with  any  coherence. 

But  now  he  was  maddened  past  restraint. 
There  was  no  question  in  his  mind  that  her  words 
were  proof  of  the  worst.  He  made  a  blind  rush 
forward.  He  meant  to  kill  Cowperthwaite,  the 
weapons  of  his  vengeance  the  great  hands  that 
primal  Nature  had  made  strong  to  tempt  him. 
He  had  forgotten  the  man  had  gone. 

In  the  rush  toward  the  door  he  crashed  against 
his  desk  and  fell  across  it.  There  was  a  noise. 
He  had  dislodged  something. 

"The  books,"  he  muttered  hoarsely,  and  auto- 
matically stooped  to  pick  them  up.  While  he 
was  huddling  them  together  on  the  desk  he  re- 
membered that  he  had  sent  Cowperthwaite  away 
in  the  confidence  that  his  friend  believed  in  his 
story.  That  confused  Ward.  Still  he  went  on, 
repeatmg  stupidly,  "The  books."  Then  in  the 
bewilderment  of  his  senses,  the  orderly  books  and 
papers,  signs  of  the  majesty  of  the  law,  of  all  the 
manly  purpose  of  his  Hfe,  the  tools  with  which  he 

[38] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

and  Cowperthwaite  and  Ruth  had  hoped  to  raise 
a  temple  to  civic  cleanness,  the  great  and  sacred 
purpose  of  his  life,  to  serve,  unselfishly,  his  weaker 
brother,  spoke  to  him.  At  that  moment,  what- 
ever he  might  think  them  later,  these  voices 
seemed  to  calm  the  fever  of  his  anguish,  to  speak 
of  peace  and  forgiveness  and  of  greater  things 
than  his  own  manhood.  Slowly,  disjointedly, 
these  warnings  came — then  clearer. 

"If  I  punish  him  and  her  or  him  alone — what 
follows  .f*  They  were  seen  to  go  off  together.  In 
an  hour  from  the  discovery  of  my — justice — all 
the  city  will  know.  And  then,  *  Reformer,  Reform 
Thyself !'  *  The  Wife  of  the  Prosecuting  Attorney !' 
Good  God !  How  clearly  I  can  see  the  head-lines ! 
'  The  Reform  Counsel !'  '  The  Fear  of  Evil-doers !' 
It  will  be  the  crowning  sensation  that  he  was 
working  with  us.  Everything  we  have  been 
working  for — everything  that  every  decent  man 
in  this  shamed  city  has  been  hoping  for — will  be 
done  away  with  in  one  foul  breath! 

"But — to  let  them  go!  It's  hard — impossible. 
Oh — but  what  have  I  lived  for  if  I  can't  put  down 
myself  .f^  What  is  this  myself,  the  thing  I  call  my 
man's  honor.'^  They  say  it's  the  mere  brute  desire 
for  possession — brute  vengeance  at  the  snatching 
away  of  one's  brute  food.  What's  the  use  of  all 
the  bragging  I've  been  doing  if  I  am  going  to 

1391 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

destroy  now  the  larger  purpose  because  of  this 
mere  myself?  No,  it's  the  bigger  object.  All  the 
smaller  things  must  go — 

"But — how  can  I  bear  it,  Ruth,  to  see  you  live 
beside  me  in  tainted  safety,  always  beside  me? 
So  much  worse  than  your  mere — death.  And  to 
condone — -forgive.  It  was  so  much  blacker  be- 
cause my  faith  was  perfect.  And  let  that  man 
go — because  I  gave  him  the  chance — being  my 
friend.    I  can't  do  it!    I  can't  do  it!" 

With  the  wild  rebellion  of  his  last  words  still 
in  his  heart  he  made  a  final  effort,  summoned 
up  all  the  greatness  in  him,  his  hands  clenched, 
his  deep  chest  strained  to  its  utmost: 

"I'll  forgive  her!"  He  said  it  aloud.  "I  will 
forgive  her." 


CHAPTER  V 

T  TE  stood  for  some  minutes  in  the  numb  in- 
-*■  -■■  activity  that  followed  the  splendid  exalta- 
tion of  his  sacrifice.  Then  he  turned  and  went 
deliberately  into  the  next  room.  Better  have 
the  first  sight  of  Ruth  over  with,  and  say  what  he 
must.  His  tense  nerves  snapped  into  a  spasm 
of  unreasoning  irritation  when  he  reahzed  that 
she  was  not  there.  Why  wasn't  she  there!  She 
reappeared. 

"I  heard  the  milkman,"  she  said  to  him. 
She,  too,  was  made  to  feel  that  her  action  needed 
explanation. 

Ward  had  to  have  another  minute  before  he 
could  speak  with  any  steadiness.  He  could  see 
that  she  was  waiting  for  him  to  say  something. 
But  it  was  the  blessed  banality  of  the  common- 
place that  gave  him  refuge. 

"  Isn't  he  rather  early  ?"  He  was  congratulating 
himself  on  the  admirable  casualness  of  his  tone. 

But  as  Ruth  answered,  "No,  I  think  it's  his 
usual  hour,"  she  blushed  hotly  at  the  inference 
in   her   words.     And   Ward's   half -tamed   rage 

[41] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

surged  up  and  choked  him.  In  the  next  in- 
stant he  had  pulled  himself  up  from  his  lapse 
with  an  intolerable  sense  of  shame.  Yet  all 
the  time  something  within  him,  the  childish 
something  that  always  persists  in  feeling  there 
must  be  some  appeal  from  pain,  was  moaning 
with  fine  pathos. 

"Is  it  going  to  be  always  like  this?" 
He  put  that  down,  too,  telling  himself  that  the 
first  thing  he  must  do  was  to  get  himself  in  hand. 
Pushing  back  the  insistent  urge  with  which  the 
tragedy  demanded  to  be  considered  he  dwelt 
upon  the  details  by  which  he  should  gain  mastery. 
First  he  must  get  control  of  his  voice,  still  the 
wild  pounding  of  his  heart,  keep  his  hands 
steady.  These  were  shaking  so  he  had  to  put 
them  into  his  pockets.  With  the  reassuring 
touch  of  calmness  the  mere  position  gave  him 
he  dared  to  meet  Ruth's  eyes,  holding  them  with 
his  own  while  he  muttered  some  sort  of  an  ex- 
planation, laying  his  outbreak  of  an  hour  back 
to  the  long  strain  of  anxiety  for  her.  He  felt 
triumphantly  that  he  was  facing  her  steadily. 
Then,  seeing  the  fury  had  gone  out  from  him, 
she  took  heart  and  forgot  the  cause  of  it.  All 
her  face  flushed  into  unimaginable  beauty  with 
the  relief  she  felt. 

At  that  moment  this  was  to  Ward  the  greatest 

[42] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

insult.  But  he  bore  it  quietly  without  moving. 
He  bore  quietly,  too,  her  drifting  toward  him, 
the  momentary  timid  clinging  of  her  hand  upon 
his  arm.  But  he  moved  immediately,  with  some 
polite  pretext  of  having  work  to  do  before  he 
left. 

Feeling  that  she  had  been  repulsed,  Ruth  drew 
away  from  him  with  a  flaming  up  of  her  splendid 
color.  It  meant  anger  this  time,  not  embarrass- 
ment. She  felt  that,  since  he  had  forgiven  the 
fault  she  had  confessed  to,  he  ought  to  be 
generous  enough  to  forget  it. 

She  paused  at  the  door. 

"This  is  the  day  you  have  to  go  to  Chicago," 
she  said,  with  coolness  as  great  as  his  own.  "It 
will  be  a  tiresome  trip.  You  can't  get  them  over 
the  long-distance.'^"  She  was  a  model  of  cour- 
teous consideration.  And  her  husband,  in  spite 
of  his  fixed  determination  not  to  feel  anything, 
was  incensed;  it  was  as  if  she  had  a  right  to  be 
indignant.  He  wondered,  with  a  sudden,  sick 
repulsion  from  her,  if  all  women  were  callous 
like  that. 

But  Ruth  had  had  her  second  thought  of  the 
reason  he  had  to  be  angry  with  her. 

"It  will  take  him  a  little  while  to  get  over  it," 
she  thought,  wistfully.  Then  she  caught  eagerly 
at  the  relief  of  action.     "  I'll  go  up-stairs  and  pack 

4  [43] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

your  bag."  Over  her  shoulder  she  called  back 
to  him: 

"It's  the  eight-o'clock  express  you  always 
get,  isn't  it?  How  many  days  shall  I  pack 
for?" 

He  had  said,  hastily,  "I  can  get  home  to- 
morrow on  the  midnight,"  before  he  considered. 
"No;  come  to  think  of  it,  it  will  take  three  days 
at  least."  He  grasped  at  the  prospect  of  respite 
the  absence  from  her  furnished  him,  with  a  great 
breath  of  surprised  relief. 

She  caught  the  tone.  But  her  voice  was 
steadier  than  his  own  as  she  halted  at  the  top  of 
the  flight  to  speak  to  him: 

"Will  you  need  a  dress-coat  or  will  your  din- 
ner-coat do?" 

"Oh,  anything.  It  doesn't  matter,"  he  an- 
swered, hastily,  diving  into  his  work-room  again 
for  his  papers.  "There  won't  be  anything  but 
dinner  with  those  fellows  at  their  club — possibly 
only  luncheon.  Just  put  in  plenty  of  collars  and 
things.  One  needs  three  times  one's  usual  allow- 
ance there." 

Alone  in  the  study,  he  couldn't  act  for  a  mo- 
ment. The  exquisite  relief  of  being  off  guard 
had  to  be  savored.  He  could  let  his  face  fall 
into  the  lines  that  expressed  his  sick  despair. 

He  delayed  as  long  as  he  could,  knowing  all 

[44] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

the  while  that  the  thing  that  really  pressed  was 
to  decide  how  he  could  say  good-by  to  Ruth. 

That  seemed  more  impossible  of  solution  than 
any  of  the  so-called  bigger,  wider  problems  that 
faced  him.     Over  it  and  over  it  again  he  went. 

If  he  left  without  kissing  her  it  would  widen 
the  breach  between  them.  She  would  know  that 
he  had  not  really  forgiven  her  and  he  had  pledged 
himself  to  forgive.  Well,  that  question  he  could 
settle  with  himself  while  he  was  away.  He 
would  have  three  days  and  two  nights  in  which  to 
decide  his  future  course.  But  this  other  thing 
had  to  be  settled  now. 

If  he  tried  to  say  good-by,  as  he  had  all  the 
other  mornings  of  their  life  together — surely 
that  was  what  should  be  done.  After  all,  what 
was  it?  Just  a  moment's  touch,  a  contact. 
Couldn't  he  force  himself  to  do  so  much  while 
his  soul  stood  somewhere  outside,  aloof?  That 
needn't  bind  him  to  any  future  living.  All  that 
he  could  thresh  out  when  he  was  blessedly  alone. 

While  he  was  arguing  with  himself  he  knew  he 
could  not.  There  was  no  power  that  could 
make  him  touch  her,  desecrate  the  memory  of 
all  the  love  that  had  been  between  them. 

His  papers  crammed  into  their  case,  he  still 
sat  there,  lost  in  the  bitter  wretchedness  that  had 
risen  to  take  the  place  of  the  frenzy  that  had 

[45] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

passed.  How  could  he  say  good-by  or  not  say 
it?  In  his  throbbing  indecision  he  looked  up  at 
the  clock  that  still  ticked  upon  the  mantel. 

"There  isn't  much  time,"  he  muttered,  grate- 
ful for  the  momentary  stay  of  his  thought. 

Then  the  pretext  occurred  to  him  that  that 
would  make  a  plausible  reason  for  going  away 
without  saying  good-by.  He  hugged  it,  going 
over  the  details  of  it  with  the  crafty  care  of  a 
conspirator. 

He  rushed  out  into  the  hall  with  all  the  noisy 
signs  of  violent  haste. 

"Ruth,"  he  called,  "is  my  bag  ready?  I  find 
I  haven't  a  minute  to  spare.  I'll  have  to  stop 
and  have  a  talk  with  Wilson  on  my  way  to  the 
station.  And  you  needn't  worry  about  my 
breakfast.  I'll  get  some  at  the  station  or  on  the 
train." 

His  wife  hurried  to  the  landing,  closing  the 
bag  as  she  came. 

"I  think  I  have  put  everything  in,"  she  said, 
breathlessly.     "But  if  I  haven't—" 

"I'll  know  it  isn't  your  fault,"  he  laughed. 
In  the  feeling  that  his  plan  was  going  to  be  suc- 
cessful he  found  that  he  could  laugh.  He  was 
half-way  up  the  stairs.  "Just  reach  it  down  to 
me,"  he  said;  "I  haven't  a  minute." 

He  took  the  bag  out  of  her  hands  and  hurried 

[461 


'there!    I  didn't  say  good-by!     it  'll  keep  till  I  COME  back' 


AS   CAESAR'S    WIFE 

to  the  door.  When  he  got  there  he  called  back, 
with  an  elaborate  air  of  having  just  remembered: 
"There!  I  didn't  say  good-by!  Can't  take  the 
time  now.     It  '11  keep  till  I  come  back." 

He  shut  the  door  behind  him.  But,  although 
he  assured  himself  all  the  way  to  the  car  that  the 
whole  episode  was  what  would  have  happened 
to  any  one,  he  could  not  shut  out  of  his  con- 
sciousness the  shadow  in  Ruth's  hurt  and  won- 
dering eyes.  Even  when  he  smoldered  in  anger 
that  she  could  contrive  to  look  surprised  the 
eyes  pleaded  with  him.  For  whatever  other 
emotion  might  find  expression  in  them,  Ruth's 
eyes  were  always,  underneath  their  pride  and 
beauty,  dumbly  asking  people  to  be  kind. 

On  the  train  for  a  time  Ward  lost  himself  in 
work.  During  the  recess  that  had  occurred  be- 
cause of  Judge  Barnard's  illness  he  had  to 
formulate  a  plan  of  action.  The  Garvin  case 
was  the  next  of  the  series  of  graft  prosecutions 
on  the  docket.  Now  that  he  was  able  to  think 
of  anything  besides  Ruth,  the  news  that  Xllowper- 
thwaite  had  brought  concerning  Remsen  hit 
Ward  hard.  For  the  moment  the  public  man 
was  so  far  to  the  front  that  Ward  felt  the  sting  of 
disappointment  over  the  loss  of  that  almost  in- 
dispensable witness  before  the  twinge  of  ugly 

[47] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

hate  at  the  recurrence  of  the  thought  of  Cow- 
perthwaite. 

With  Remsen  escaped,  what  was  to  be  done? 
It  was  the  first  reverse  of  any  seriousness  that 
Ward  had  experienced  since  the  better  element 
in  the  city,  led  by  the  Norwick  Civic  Club,  had 
secured  his  election  as  prosecuting  attorney — a 
man  who  could  be  neither  bought  nor  intimi- 
dated. With  the  aid  of  Cowperthwaite,  who 
was,  perhaps,  the  dominating  intellectual  force 
of  the  movement.  Ward  had  conducted  the  cases 
to  the  point  where  Boss  Mayo's  indictment  was 
at  least  in  sight.  His  plan  had  been  to  first  con- 
vict Garvin  of  having  bought  a  valuable  street- 
railroad  franchise  of  Boss  Mayo.  Then,  as  a 
natural  sequence,  the  indictment  of  Mayo  him- 
self for  having,  as  chairman  of  the  City  Council, 
received  a  bribe,  would  follow.  Although  they 
could,  of  course,  have  subpoenaed  Mayo  as  wit- 
ness, it  was  not  thought  advisable  to  bring  him 
to  the  stand  until  his  case  was  called.  Mayo  on 
the  stand  was  a  too  dangerous  possibility. 

Remsen,  the  ward  politician  whom  their 
detectives  believed  to  have  been  the  go-between 
in  the  transaction,  was  the  witness  upon  whose 
testimony  the  case  rested.  Ward  had  intended 
to  subpoena  ,hini  that  very  day;  it  had  not  seemed 
advisable   to   have  the   Ring   warned   of   their 

[48] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

knowledge  about  Remsen  any  earlier  in  the  case 
than  was  necessary;  the  attorney  winced  as  he 
realized  that  he  had  made  a  mistake. 

"Now  that  Remsen  has  gone,  what's  the  next 
best  way  to  get  at  them?"  Ward  scowled  at  the 
seat  in  front  of  him  as  he  brought  his  mind  to 
the  problem.  "There's  that  secretary  fellow, 
Lyman.  In  the  nature  of  things  he  must  know 
something.  Lucky  I  caught  him  before  he  had  a 
chance  to  skip,  too.  But  he  is  a  mighty  clever 
fellow  and  hand  in  glove  with  Garvin  and  Mayo, 
too.  It  will  be  pretty  hard  to  get  anything  out 
of  him.  He's  smooth.  He  is  probably  looking 
forward  to  a  partnership  with  Garvin  and  has 
everything  at  stake." 

Ward  stared  at  the  succession  of  level  wooded 
stretches  flying  past  his  window,  intent  on  points 
of  attack  that  might  startle  the  truth  that  they 
sought  from  Lyman.  "I'll  ask  Will,"  was  his 
involuntary  impulse.  He  pulled  himself  up  with 
a  frown. 

For  a  time  Ward's  frowning  intentness  put 
its  questions  to  the  successions  of  villages  and 
farm-houses  set  in  the  midst  of  their  gently 
rolling  fields.  But  back  in  his  mind  something 
warned  him  that  all  his  effort  to  keep  the  thought 
of  Ruth  away  was  useless.  Coming  nearer  and 
nearer  was  the  real  center  of  his  thought.     Shun 

[49] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

it  as  he  might,  the  tragic  problem  of  his  wife 
bore  down  on  him,  breaking  down  his  defenses 
one  by  one. 

For  a  long  time  his  desire  for  thought  resolved 
itself  into  mere  chaotic  gusts  of  rebellious  anger 
and  lapses  into  dumb  suflFering.  But  at  last, 
slouched  down  into  a  corner,  his  head  sunk 
between  his  shoulders,  his  black  eyes  searching 
the  shifting  landscape  with  gloomy  intentness,  he 
got  the  issue  that  he  faced  directly  in  front  of 
him.     He  couldn't  veer  away  from  it  again. 

"I've  got  to  decide  what  to  do,"  he  vowed  to 
himself  between  set  teeth. 

Then  all  the  thoughts  that  had  been  mere 
flying,  drifting  clouds  of  unformed  anguish  dur- 
ing the  hours  that  lay  just  back  of  him  began  to 
take  shape  and  coherence  around  the  aching 
central  quCTy:  Was  there  any  course  of  action 
he  could  take  that  would  not  mean  shipwreck 
for  them  both.^* 

"I  ought  to  have  killed  him!"  The  thought 
came  to  the  primitive  male  within  him  with  a 
sudden,  savage  leaping  up  of  satisfaction.  And 
unconsciously  his  eyes  fell  again  on  his  big,  bare 
hands  that  twitched  hungrily  as  he  looked.  But 
the  next  instant  the  sullen  recognition  was  wrung 
from  him  that,  since  he  had  not  done  vengeance 
at  the  moment,  the  time  for  that  had  passed. 

[60] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

Ward  was  no  metaphysician.  But  he  felt  dumbly 
that,  with  the  later  impulse  that  had  come  to 
stay  his  murder  passion,  the  era  of  the  mere  ele- 
mental in  him  was  ended.  He  had  once  for  all 
routed  them,  those  voices  that  had  counseled 
him  to  do  direct,  unthinking  brute  justice.  He 
had  ranged  himself  for  all  future  time  as  a  think- 
ing, reasoning,  mind-directed  man. 

That  specter,  then,  was  laid  forever.  What 
remained?  Here  Ward  stirred  uneasily,  for 
something  was  coming  that  would  push  him 
hard. 

"I  said  that  I  would  forgive  her!  Can  I  do  it? 
But  that  means  trust!" 

He  spoke  the  words  aloud,  forced  by  the  ten- 
sion of  his  thinking.  They  came  to  his  own  ears 
with  a  sense  of  fateful  utterance,  although  the 
rumble  of  the  cars  kept  his  nearest  neighbors 
from  knowing  he  had  spoken. 

Then  he  tried  to  picture  to  himself  their  life 
together.  Remorselessly  he  went  over  all  of  its 
relations.  Ruth  welcoming  him  home;  Ruth,  his 
wife,  before  the  world.  Watched  only  by  the 
throbbing  emptiness  that  still  to  his  tight- 
wrought  consciousness  was  full  of  a  great  judging, 
exacting,  loving  presence.  Ward  crimsoned  darkly, 
painfully.  It  was  with  a  sense  of  intolerable 
effort  that  he  took  up  his  unsparing  thought 

[51] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

again.  Ruth  "before  the  world"  meant — Ruth 
in  the  eyes  of  other  men! 

His  breath  came  faster  in  great,  gasping,  clutch- 
ing gusts.  And  with  the  strangling  grip  of  pas- 
sion that  the  mere  thought  brought  him  he  knew, 
inexorably,  that  the  years  of  his  loyal,  unthinking 
belief  in  her  were  over.  He  should  always  throb 
and  suffer  when  the  eyes  of  another  man  were  on 
her;  he  would  be  able  to  read  nothing  but  baffling 
secrecy  in  those  beautiful,  soft  eyes  of  hers. 

That  brought  him  face  to  face  with  it,  the  piti- 
less fact  that  was  at  the  base  of  all  his  thinking: 

"If  I  can't  forgive  her  wholly,  greatly,  with 
love,  as  Christ  forgave,  what  then?  Must  I — " 
His  thoughts  stopped  short  before  the  shadow  of 
that  grim  accounting.  His  heart  went  out  into 
pitiful,  passionate  pleadings  to  the  Presence: 
"How  can  I.'*  I'm  not  You,  God.  I'm  only  a 
mass  of  clay  with  something  of  Your  Spirit  stir- 
ring in  me!.  She  is  my  own,  my  very  soul,  my 
body.  Mine  grasped  to  me  out  of  the  incalcu- 
lable loneliness  of  the  universe,  the  something 
that  has  answered  to  my  longings,  the  charm 
that  has  seemed  the  key  to  all  the  puzzle,  my 
food,  my  drink,  the  thing  that  was  my  own!  I 
can't  give  her  up.  You  Yourself  could  not  expect 
it  of  me.    Being  what  I  am,  a  man!" 

His  agony  was  unbearable.     He  jumped  up 

[52] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

and  walked,  unsteadily,  the  whole  length  of  the 
swaymg,  rushmg  train.  His  black  eyes  brooding 
in  incarnate  tragedy,  his  grim  mouth  set  rigidly 
to  still  its  working,  straight  ahead  he  went, 
banging  open  heavy  doors,  staggering  through 
vestibules,  clutching  backs  of  seats.  There  were 
on  the  express  acquaintances  of  Ward's — men 
who,  seeing  him,  started  up  to  hail  him,  for  he 
was  a  man  of  many  friends,  vital,  coming  into 
full  sight  as  a  man  of  force  and  principle,  a 
powerful  man  in  whom  good  men  trusted.  But 
after  another  glance  at  his  rigid  face  each  man 
fell  back  into  his  chair  and  wondered. 

All  the  length  of  his  futile  marching  the  thing 
pursued  him.  Ward  didn't  know  at  what  in- 
stant it  was  presented  to  him  as  a  coherent 
demand : 

"If  I  can't  forgive  her  the  only  decent  thing 
is  to  do  without  her."  When  it  was  once  said 
Ward  shivered  in  the  chill. 

Dropping  into  his  seat,  he  forced  his  mind  to 
go  over  all  the  length  of  his  life  without  her,  the 
never-endmg  emptiness,  the  longing  that  would 
not  be  quieted,  the  hunger  that  could  not  be 
stilled.  His  road  stretched  before  him,  dark, 
stony,  endless,  lighted  only  by  a  pale  glimmer  at 
its  very  end.  It  was  impossible  that  at  that 
moment  the  man  could  see  anything  that  could 

[53] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

weigh  by  so  much  as  a  feather  against  his  need 
of  her.  Right,  was  a  mocking  abstraction  and 
peace  with  his  own  soul,  an  aching  blank.  Just 
once  his  mind  forced  the  thought  before  him: 
that  some  day  good  might  come  from  the  un- 
bearable sacrifice. 

"There  isn't  a  man  living  that  could  feel  it!" 
he  said,  furiously,  to  his  own  soul. 

Then  that  ebbed,  too,  and  for  a  time  he  sat  in 
weary  dullness. 

It  was  then  that  the  royal  vision  of  his  wife 
made  triumphant  entry.  He  saw  Ruth  smiling 
— as  she  would  be  if  he  willed  it,  red  lips  inviting, 
every  charm  more  imperative  for  the  frightful 
emptiness  out  of  which  she  had  risen.  Every- 
thing in  the  man,  soul  and  body,  leaped  to  meet 
her  with  an  insolent  demand.  He  glowed  and 
tingled  with  the  joy  of  the  thought  of  her.  The 
warmth  of  her  love,  the  joy  of  her  presence,  was 
so  real,  so  new,  somehow,  in  this  new  defiance  of 
his  spirit,  that  unconsciously  he  lowered  his  eyes 
uneasily.  He  realized  that  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life  the  thought  of  his  own  wife  had  given  him 
a  sense  of  shame.  Then  his  mood  changed  again, 
and  he  was  downcast  with  ominous  forecastings 
of  what  their  life  would  be  if — he  still  did  not 
admit  the  question  had  been  settled — if  he  should 
condone  her  sin  against  him,  take  her  back. 

154] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"What  will  become  of  me  if  I,  having  lost  my 
belief  in  her,  live  with  her?"  He  sank  into  blank 
dejection  at  the  thought. 

Up  and  down  the  scale,  from  sacrifice  to 
yielding,  with  the  conclusion  made  but  to  be 
broken,  he  went,  over  and  over,  through  the 
whole  journey's  length.  When  the  train  began 
to  slow  up,  ready  to  slide  into  the  station  at 
Chicago,  he  began  to  gather  up  his  belongings, 
muttering  exhaustedly  to  himself: 

"It  wouldn't  be  decent;  it  wouldn't  be  decent." 

But  when  the  car  trembled  with  the  almost 
imperceptible  jar  of  the  arrival  he  turned  in  a 
final,  defiant  protest  to  the  hovering,  austere 
Presence : 

"You  can't  expect  me — I  won't  think  it!  How 
can  I  live  if  I  send  her  away?" 


CHAPTER  VI 

WARD  had  sent  a  telegram  from  Chicago 
that  he  would  be  back  for  the  opening  of 
court  on  the  third  day.  But  when  Cowper- 
thwaite  came  into  court  on  that  day,  although 
it  was  already  more  than  comfortably  full  of 
spectators,  the  prosecuting  attorney  had  not 
yet  appeared.  Cowperthwaite  took  his  place  on 
the  side  reserved  for  the  prosecution,  and  waited. 
Criminal  Court  No.  1  was  a  large  and  handsome 
room.  In  fact,  the  whole  City  Hall  was  a  tribute 
to  the  Mayo  machine.  Those  gentlemen  must 
have  had  a  certain  amount  of  civic  pride  to  have 
allowed  so  large  a  proportion  of  the  millions  ex- 
pended to  .have  gone  into  the  structure.  One 
side  of  the  court-room  gave  on  an  inner  court; 
two  sides  were  on  the  street.  Except  for  the 
front  wall,  with  the  judge's  imposing,  red-cano- 
pied chair  in  the  center,  the  big  room  seemed  all 
of  windows.  With  the  sunlight  pouring  in  from 
the  back,  with  direct  or  cross  lights  everywhere, 
there  was  little  chance  of  any  criminal  finding  the 
darkness  a  welcome  ally. 

[561 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

The  people  continued  to  stream  in;  in  another 
half-hour  the  room  would  be  crowded.  After 
this,  no  one  could  say  that  the  public  was  in- 
different, passive,  to  its  shame;  it  was  evident 
that  it  was  aroused  to  its  depths  by  this  effort 
toward  its  regeneration.  Kenneth  Ward  had 
established  a  reputation  for  a  certain  hard-headed 
driving  at  an  honest  purpose  that  was  making 
him  popular  as  a  head-liner  in  the  more  inde- 
pendent newspapers.  And  Cowperthwaite's  ap- 
pointment as  associate  counsel  had  just  been 
announced.  The  merely  curious  were  there  also; 
it  was  getting  to  be  probable  that  each  day  would 
furnish  a  sensation.  Everywhere  there  was  the 
subdued  hiun  of  conversation,  a  rustle  of  ex- 
pectation. Below  the  judge's  stand,  in  the  pen 
on  the  right  hand,  the  clerk  of  the  court,  a 
youth  of  a  light  and  facetious  turn  of  mind, 
given  to  flowing  neckties  and  to  magenta  socks, 
had  already  placed  in  methodical  piles  before 
him  the  documents  that  would  be  needed  in  the 
case,  humming,  meantime,  a  melody  sung  by  the 
musical  comedy  star  who,  the  night  before,  had 
tripped  over  the  local  boards. 

Below  the  bar  of  the  shining  red-wood  railing, 
neither  of  the  lawyers  for  the  defense  of  Garvin 
had  appeared.  On  the  other  side  of  Cowper- 
thwaite,  beyond  Ward's  empty  chair,  Wilson, 

[571 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

Ward's  junior,  was  feverishly  cramming  the 
figures  that  it  was  his  part  of  the  assignment  to 
reel  off;  Ward  himself  never  eared  for  the  tech- 
nical part.  Cowperthwaite  leaned  forward  to 
see  whether  Ken  was  coming  in  yet.  He  was 
not;  and  Cowperthwaite  settled  back,  smiling  a 
little  ironically  to  himself  to  realize  that  he  was 
awaiting  Ken's  coming  with  suspense.  The 
smile,  and  something  fine  and  subtle  in  Cowper- 
thwaite's  face  made  of  him,  had  there  been  any 
imaginative  person  there  to  observe  it,  a  denizen 
of  some  other  than  of  our  burly  * 'business"  cen- 
tury. His  was  the  type  that  one  associates  with 
white  curled  wigs  and  lace  ruffles  and  paste 
buckles. 

"Any  man  might  be  allowed  some  curiosity 
about  seeing  a  friend  after  a  scene  like  that  of 
the  other  day,"  he  was  thinking.  "I  suppose  it 
isn't  strange,  even  if  he  does  know  I  wasn't  any- 
thing worse  than  a  fool,  that  I  actually  feel  some 
embarrassment — think  of  feeling  embarrassed 
before  old  Ken !  Well,  it's  luck  that  we're  going 
to  work  together;  we'll  soon  get  down  to  rock- 
bottom  again." 

In  a  few  minutes  Garvin  appeared,  a  little, 
gray  man  with  an  alert  and  nervous  bearing. 
He  was  with  his  counsel,  and,  from  the  irritability 
of  frequent  glances  at  his  watch,  appeared  more 

[58] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

concerned  over  the  loss  of  his  time  than  the 
trifling  incident  that  he  was  on  trial  for  bribery. 

A  few  late-comers  were  drifting  in.  With  a 
start  of  surprise  Cowperthwaite  saw  that  Mayo 
himself  had  taken  a  seat  just  back  of  Garvin  and 
his  counsel.  Cowperthwaite  had  heard  a  rumor 
that  Mayo  had  left  the  city.  The  Big  Man 
seemed  entirely  confident. 

*'He  has  pluck,  of  course,"  thought  Cow- 
perthwaite. By  Mayo's  side  was  a  fair,  young 
slip  of  a  girl.  Mayo  was  not  a  man  to  bring  his 
private  affairs  into  the  lime-light.  Yet,  some- 
how, all  the  city  knew  of  his  devotion  to  his  one, 
motherless  child. 

People  were  beginning  to  crane  their  necks 
reproachfully  toward  the  door  that  persistently 
refused  to  disgorge  Ward;  the  buzz  of  talking 
rose  higher.  It  was  checked  into  sudden  silence. 
Cowperthwaite's  eyes  followed  the  direction  that 
those  of  all  were  taking.  With  his  head  down, 
and  shouldering  his  way  blindly  through  the  knot 
of  hangers-on  about  the  door — each  one  eager 
for  a  sign  of  recognition — Ward  had  entered  the 
room. 

When  he  was  within  a  few  feet  of  Cowper- 
thwaite he  raised  his  head  and  saw  the  man  he 
had  allowed  to  leave  his  home  in  the  gray  light 
of  a  morning  three  days  back.     Ward  halted 

5  [59] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

for  a  perceptible  moment.  He  had  forgotten 
that  he  would  have  to  find  Cowperthwaite  beside 
his  chair  in  court.  Then  he  came  steadily  on, 
passed  back  of  Cowperthwaite's  seat,  where  his 
friend  heard  a  single,  hard-drawn  breath,  and  so 
took  his  place  between  Wilson  and  the  new 
associate  counsel. 

Every  one  stirred,  and  then  settled  again. 
Judge  Barnard  appeared  and  took  his  seat  imder 
the  large  and  assertively  gilt  State  coat  of  arms. 
The  bailiff  hurried  through  his  nasal  "Hear 
ye,  hear  ye,  this  honorable  branch  of  the  Criminal 
Court  of  Rose  County  is  now  in  session!"  Gar- 
vin, who  had  been  biting  his  finger-nails  in 
nervous  impatience,  constrained  to  wait,  he  who, 
for  so  many  years,  had  had  men  wait  for  him, 
sat  back.  Mayo  leaned  forward,  and  directed  a 
brilliantly  piercing  look  at  the  attorney.  For  a 
moment  he  stood,  to  see  Ward  better.  Then 
one  saw  that  Mayo  was  a  big  man  indeed — big 
and  powerful  and  fair.  His  hair,  which  had  been 
unusually  blond  in  his  youth,  was  almost  white 
now,  like  his  heavy  mustache,  that  belonged  to 
a  day  when  the  bucaneer-cavalier  tj^e  was  the 
model  that  men  aimed  for.  His  clear,  blond  skin, 
of  a  singular  delicacy,  save  for  a  few  golden-brown 
freckles,^  was  tinged  with  a  wholesome  floridness. 
And  his  eyes  were  unexpectedly,  brightly  blue, 

160] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

so  clear  and  shrewd  and  brilliant  that  they  be- 
came easily  the  dominant  expression  of  his  face. 
The  man's  fair  head,  liberally  dusted  with  white, 
made  one  think  of  hoar-frost  on  ripe  fruit;  there 
was  something  that  brought  to  the  imagination 
inevitably  a  powerful  figure  standing  in  the  prow 
of  some  adventuring  ship,  beaten  by  salt  winds 
and  bound  for  enterprise  where  only  might 
should  prevail. 

Ward  shook  his  head  impatiently  in  response 
to  some  friendly  inquiry  of  his  young  assistant. 
He  took  his  seat  with  the  slightest  possible  rec- 
ognition of  Cowperthwaite's  greeting.  Wilson 
fell  back;  he  was  too  young  to  hide  that  he  felt 
rebuffed. 

"The  first  time  he  ever  failed  to  be  the 
first  in  here;  it  was  natural  enough  to  think 
the  train  was  late  or  he  might  be  ill.  Don't 
see  why  he  needs  to  be  so  short  about  it!"  So 
Wilson  thought,  with  a  sense  of  injury.  But 
Cowperthwaite  smiled,  unperturbed;  he  had 
expected  just  such  a  constrained  encoimter. 

There  were  the  usual  routine  preliminaries 
before  Lyman's  testimony,  held  over  from  the 
last  session,  was  resumed.  So,  when  Ward  sat 
quietly,  frowning  over  the  papers  in  his  hand, 
Cowperthwaite  at  last  had  a  chance  to  look  at 
him  squarely.  The  attorney  sat  with  his  large 
[611 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

bulk  turned  as  far  as  possible  away  from  Cow- 
perthwaite. 

A  man  of  Cowperthwaite's  type,  all-incisive 
mind  and  taut-stretched  nervous  system,  without 
an  oimce  of  superfluous  flesh  and  with  no  more 
bulk  and  muscle  than  was  necessary  to  equip  him 
for  the  ordinary  physical  activities  of  life,  was 
not  apt  to  show  plainly  the  effect  of  strain  and 
emotion.  So,  although  the  incidents  of  his  un- 
fortunate ride  with  Mrs.  Ward  were  still  in  his 
memory,  and  he  felt  to  the  full  the  awkwardness 
of  the  present  situation,  the  lines  of  his  face 
presented  only  a  somewhat  aloof  personality, 
dominated  by  an  active  and  temperate  mind. 
He  certainly  was  not  abnormally  imaginative. 
Yet,  as  he  looked  at  Ken,  there  came  to  him — 
apparently  from  the  outside — the  thought  that 
he  was  the  spectator  of  an  upheaval  of  the  man's 
whole  moral  nature,  a  reversal  of  all  established 
forces,  so  complete  that,  for  an  instant,  he  won- 
dered whether  the  balance  could  ever  be  restored. 
At  one  moment  he  glanced  around  uneasily,  to 
see  whether  every  one  was  observing  what  he  did; 
the  next  he  said  to  himself,  with  his  usual  de- 
tached lightness: 

"What  nonsense!  There  wasn't  anything  in 
what  happened  to  upset  Ken  this  way;  it's  noth- 
ing but  mat  the  man  has  lost  some  sleep.'* 

[62] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

But,  even  with  the  words,  Cowperthwaite 
had  returned  to  his  uneasy  contemplation: 
Big  man  as  Ward  was  physically,  he  had  always 
carried  his  height  and  bulk  so  buoyantly  that  one 
was  impressed,  not  with  the  fact  of  weight,  but 
of  a  force  in  action.  Now  his  shoulders  sagged, 
and  the  weariness  evident  in  his  bearing  made 
mere  bulk  more  evident;  the  whole  man  was 
something  more  earthy,  almost  gross.  The 
abrupt  and  forceful  line  of  his  large,  strong 
features  was  harsh  in  the  pitilessly  clear  and  pure 
light  that  flooded  the  court-room.  The  swarthi- 
ness  of  his  skin,  unrelieved  by  the  ruddy  color 
that  was  part  of  the  man's  vitality,  seemed  sallow 
and  unwholesome;  the  white  lock  tumbled  over 
his  forehead  amid  the  wild  masses  of  his  hair 
like  a  streak  of  dejection,  a  signal  of  surrender; 
his  eyes  burned  black  and  somber  and  unholy. 
Even  Cowperthwaite,  detached  and  impersonal 
as  was  his  attitude  toward  other  men's  moods, 
even  those  of  a  friend,  shivered  a  little  before  he 
called  his  common  sense  to  his  aid  to  dismiss 
the  specter  his  mind  had  apparently  called  up. 
He  told  himself  that  he  had  exaggerated  out  of 
all  proportion  the  mere  effect  of  fatigue  and  worry 
on  top  of  weeks  of  continued  nervous  strain. 
But  five  minutes  afterward,  in  the  midst  of 
Wilson's  detailed  answer  to  a  question  he  had 

[63] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

put  him,  Cowperthwaite's  mind  reverted  to  its 
mieasy  questioning  about  Ken: 

"Well,  I'm  glad  I  haven't  anything  worse  than 
sheer  idiocy  on  my  conscience,"  he  echoed  his 
own  thought  of  the  morning  when  he  had  last 
seen  Ken. 

Ward  beckoned  to  Wilson,  and  the  attorney 
and  his  assistant  bent  over  the  papers  that  had 
been  laid  on  their  desks.  It  struck  Cowper- 
thwaite  that  he  was  being  rather  pointedly 
ignored;  the  spectators  might  get  an  idea  that  the 
members  of  the  prosecution  were  not  in  harmony. 

"I'll  give  Ken  this  Remsen  letter,"  Cowper- 
thwaite  thought,  looking  for  it  among  the  letters 
in  his  breast  pocket.  "We  will  get  to  talking 
about  that,  and  that  will  break  the  ice."  He 
found  the  note;  it  was  written  on  vividly  pink 
note-paper;  Remsen  had  used  some  belong- 
ing to  a  child  at  the  house  where  he  was  in 
hiding.  "Ken,"  Cowperthwaite  said,  touching 
Ward  on  his  aloof,  burly  shoulder,  "you  re- 
member, I  told  you  we  had  a  talk  with  Remsen 
the  other  night?" 

Ward  turned  with  a  start.  The  face  he  op- 
posed to  Cowperthwaite  wore  so  odd  an  expres- 
sion that  his  friend  was  puzzled.  But  the  pause 
before  he  spoke  was  barely  perceptible,  and  his 
voice  was  under  very  good  control: 

[641 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"I  remember  you  mentioned  it." 

"Well,  I  hadn't  received  my  appointment 
then,  so  I  couldn't  subpoena  him.  What  an  ever- 
lasting shame  it  is  things  were  not  brought  round 
a  day  earlier!  But  I  did  get  this  note  from  him 
to  you."  He  gave  Ward  the  sheet  of  pink 
paper. 

The  lawyer  scrutinized  it;  his  expression  was 
entirely  non-committal.  The  start  of  surprise 
that  Cowperthwaite  had  expected  did  not 
follow. 

"Where  did  you  get  this  note?"  was  all  his 
comment. 

"Why,  I  told  you.  From  Remsen — that 
night." 

There  was  a  grim  contraction  about  Ward's 
jaw: 

"I  remembered  your — statement,  perfectly." 

Cowperthwaite  was  beginning  to  feel  some  im- 
patience at  Ward's  attitude.  But  he  informed 
himself  that  he  had  expected  the  onus  of  the 
affair  to  be  with  himself,  and  made  another 
effort  to  get  back  to  an  easy,  friendly  footing: 

"It  can't  be  used  as  evidence,  of  course.  It 
makes  your  fingers  fairly  itch  to  use  it,  doesn't 
it?  But  it  may  be  of  some  use  in  getting  hold  of 
Remsen  later  on.  Maybe  Brown  will  be  able 
to  discover  some  loop-hoh 

[651 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

But  Ward  was  listening  with  studied  impas- 
siveness.  And  still  Cowperthwaite,  secure  in 
his  belief  that  his  friend's  manner  was  caused 
only  by  some  natural  awkwardness  at  the  rec- 
ollection of  the  ugly  suspicion  that  had  existed 
long  enough  to  leave  its  smudge  over  their 
friendship,  fatuously  persisted: 

"That  was  what  Ruth  thought.     She—" 

"Leave  my  wife's  name  out  of  the  conversa- 
tion!" came  from  Ward  like  a  thunder-clap. 

Cowperthwaite  drew  back,  inexpressibly  star- 
tled at  the  contempt  and  fury  in  Ken's  face. 
Quite  naturally  he  fired  up,  too: 

"Oh,  come.  Ken,  don't  be  an  absolute  fool. 
We  finished  with  that  the  other  morning.  I  was 
willing  to  explain  things  then  because  I  felt  that 
it  was  due  you.  But  when  you  said  you  were 
satisfied  that  ended  it.  I  swear  I  won't  rehearse 
the  melodrama.  You  ought  to  be  man  enough 
to  bury  the  thing;  we  certainly  have  been  friends 
long  enough  for  me  to  expect  that.  And  I 
declare,  it  isn't  fair  to  your  wife  either — " 

"That's  enough!"  Ward's  face  was  dark  and 
threatening.  Cowperthwaite  felt  him  tremble 
impotently  beside  him.  As  Cowperthwaite  turned 
impatiently  away,  he  heard  him  mutter  hoarsely : 

"If  my  hands  weren't  tied —  But  of  course 
you  know  that!    I'd  like—" 

[66] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

Some  one  caught  a  tone  of  the  choked  voice 
and  turned  to  look  at  the  lawyer  curiously.  And 
the  instinct  of  his  profession  made  him  able  to 
screw  down  the  clamps  of  his  control.  Cowper- 
thwaite  heard  his  laboring  breath  slowly  sub- 
siding into  calm.  There  was  another  interval, 
and  then  Ward  rose  and  asked  Judge  Barnard 
to  have  the  witness  brought  to  the  stand.  His 
voice  was  again  quiet  and  steady. 

Cowperthwaite,  listening  intently  and  scru- 
tinizing the  quiet  face,  felt  disquieted  and  puz- 
zled. 

"What  on  earth  has  got  into  Ken?"  he  won- 
dered. Then  a  sudden  light  came  to  him. 
"Oh — I  have  it!  They  threshed  the  matter  out 
after  I  left  and  Ruth  told  him  what  a  silly  ass 
I'd  been.  That's  it!  Well — for  a  sensible  wo- 
man—  Will  anybody  tell  me  what  was  the  use 
of  being  so  blamed  conscientious!  But  that  ex- 
plains the  whole  thing — I  suppose  I'd  feel  exactly 
the  same  way.  But  he  needn't  be  so  particularly 
unbearable — whew!  This  is  going  to  complicate 
things  for  a  while.  Wonder  if  I'd  better  make 
a  clean  breast  of  the  whole  thing,  or  just  let  the 
matter  rest." 


CHAPTER  Vn 

THE  witness  who  had  been  held  over  was 
Francis  Lyman,  Mr.  Garvin's  private  secre- 
tary. In  the  absence  d  Remsen,  Lyman,  with 
Garvin  and  Mayo  himself,  was  probably  the  only 
man  who  could  speak  from  direct  knowledge 
of  the  transaction  whereby  a  franchise  worth  a 
million  had  been  voted  to  Garvin  by  Mayo's 
City  Council  without  any  return  to  the  city  what- 
ever. On  the  previous  days  of  the  trial  it  had 
been  proved  that,  some  days  subsequent  to  the 
gift  of  the  franchise,  a  check  for  $500,000,  signed 
by  Richard  D.  Garvin,  had  been  entered  to 
Mayo's  credit  at  one  of  his  banks.  The  fact 
that  both  men  were  so  careless  as  to  have  allowed 
such  a  witness  against  them  was  evidence  of  the 
cynical  indiflFerence  to  public  opinion  that  marked 
them.  It  was  this  check  that  the  prosecution 
was  endeavoring  to  prove  was  in  the  nature  of  a 
bribe  to  Mayo  in  consideration  of  his  awarding 
the  franchise  to  Garvin.  The  Council  had  been 
presided  over  by  Mayo  at  the  time  of  the  award. 
The  city  Accountant  and  treasurer  had  been  made 

[68] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

to  admit  that  they  could  find  no  record  of  any 
return  from  the  franchise  credited  to  the  city's 
revenues.  Being  of  the  machine,  however,  they 
had  attempted  to  estabHsh  that  this  fact  did 
not  prove  that  no  return  had  been  made. 

They  had  brought  into  court  schedules  show- 
ing an  elaborate  system  of  bookkeeping,  with 
which  they  counted  on  confusing  the  heads  of 
the  jurymen.  There  were  cleverly  doctored  pages 
of  figures,  from  which  they  argued  that  the 
absence  of  the  item  from  the  schedule  of  any 
particular  date  did  not  prove  that  the  money 
had  not  been  paid  in;  it  might  easily  have  been 
entered  on  some  other  schedule.  They  would 
have  succeeded  in  confusing  the  issue  had  Ward 
not  brought  the  matter  out  of  the  haze  of  con- 
jecture and  muddle  of  figures  to  show,  with  con- 
clusive simplicity,  that  neither  at  that  time  nor 
at  any  period  of  the  city  finances  had  any  such 
sum  existed  to  the  city's  credit  not  otherwise 
accounted  for.  All  of  the  complexity  of  different 
"schedules"  and  "entries"  had  therefore  fallen 
to  the  ground,  and  the  fact  had  been  established 
that  nothing  had  been  paid  to  the  city,  and  that 
a  large  sum  had  been  paid  to  Mayo  which  might, 
or  might  not,  have  been  for  his  influence  in  as- 
signing the  franchise. 

Lyman  proved  an  excellent  witness.     Which 

[69] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

means,  that  he  apparently  satisfied  the  standards 
of  the  spectators.  He  was  clear  m  his  answers, 
courteous,  never  lost  his  temper,  even  when  his 
veracity  was  assailed,  kept  everybody  in  a  good- 
humor  by  an  occasional  sally  of  what,  in  the 
arid  air  of  the  court-room,  passed  for  wit,  and 
was  preternaturally  alert  in  never  admitting 
anything  that  could,  in  the  most  indirect  manner, 
tend  to  compromise  his  principal.  He  was  a  tall, 
well-groomed,  gentlemanly  young  fellow,  with  ex- 
cellent clothes,  and  a  pleasant  voice,  the  sort  of 
man  that  the  average  business  man  wanting  a 
clever,  honest  assistant  to  train  up  with  an  eye  to 
a  partnership  would  have  picked.  He  was  the 
sort  of  man,  too — as  was  suggested  by  his  un- 
usual popularity  in  the  social  set  of  the  business 
city — ^that  any  really  far-sighted  mother  would 
prefer  as  a  husband  for  her  daughter  to  many 
richer  men  of  less  exemplary  habits. 

Yet  behind  the  defense  of  "I  cannot  recall," 
the  one  statement  whose  falsity  could  never  be 
proved  against  him,  it  was  evident  that  he 
perjured  himself  constantly  and  with  the  ut- 
most cheerfulness.  Had  Lyman  been  invariably 
correct  in  his  statements,  no  secretary  with  such 
preternatural  ignorance  and  alarming  lapses  of 
memory  ^had  ever  existed.  Yet  no  one  could 
possibly  have  doubted,  watching  the  pleasant 

170] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

young  man's  alert  gaze,  his  prudent  pause  to 
consider  before  each  statement,  that  he  was 
probably  as  admirably  equipped  for  his  duties 
as  any  street  -  railroad  magnate  could  have 
wished. 

Ward,  whose  power  over  witnesses  had  been 
one  of  the  chief  qualities  that  made  for  success 
in  his  career,  began  his  cross-examination  with 
the  almost  passionate  impetus  that  characterized 
him.  Where  he  prevailed — and  he  had  rather 
generally  prevailed  in  this  campaign — it  was 
through  the  power  of  his  personality,  the  force 
of  his  conviction  of  the  justice  of  the  cause  he 
represented,  rather  than  through  any  excess 
of  subtlety.  His  legal  education  had  been  a 
thorough  one,  but  when  all  was  said  it  was  the 
sweep  of  Ward's  moral  enthusiasm  that  had 
brought  about  his  astonishing  success  over  the 
brilliant  men  trained  in  every  legal  strategem 
through  years  of  manipulation  of  the  courts 
that  opposed  him. 

He  had  grown  to  expect  just  the  attitude  that 
Lyman  showed.  But  he  seemed  to  make  little 
headway  as  he  continued  to  question  him: 

"I  am  to  understand  that  you  have  no  knowl- 
edge of  the  negotiations  whereby  the  accused 
became  possessed  of  a  franchise  allowing  the 
Urban  to  extend  its  route  along  Avenue  Y?" 

[71] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"I  have  no  knowledge  other  than  that  the 
franchise  is  in  our  possession." 

"The  negotiations  occupied  the  greater  part 
of  six  months,  did  they  not?" 

"Nearer  seven  months,  I  beheve,"  the  witness 
rephed,  obhgingly. 

"You  must  have  been  present  at  consultations 
regarding  the  franchise,  between  Mr.  Garvin  and 
various  members  of  the  company." 

"I  cannot  recall." 

"Your  office  is  to  stand  between  Mr.  Garvin 
and  the  general  public,  is  it  not?" 

"There  was  no  statement  to  that  eflFect  in  our 
contract,"  Lyman  replied,  smartly.  A  ripple 
of  amusement  ran  round  the  court-room.  With 
this  sign  of  the  sympathy  between  himself  and 
the  audience,  the  witness  sat  a  Httle  straighter, 
and  his  smile  became  more  assured. 

"Am  I  right  in  assuming  that  you  usually 
know  with,  whom  Mr.  Garvin  is  in  consulta- 
tion?" 

"I  would  not  go  so  far  as  to  make  that  state- 
ment."    Lyman's  smile  was  amiability  itself. 

"Am  I  right  in  stating  that  this  is,  in  its 
general  features,  a  plan  of  the  offices  of  the 
Urban?'*  Ward  gave  the  plan  to  the  clerk  of 
the  court,,  who,  in  turn,  humorously  passed  it  to 
Lyman.     The  witness  examined   it  for  an   in- 

[72] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

slant.  With  an  air  of  great  candor  he  returned 
it  to  the  hands  of  the  clerk,  saying: 

"The  plan  is  in  the  main  accurate/* 

"Is  there  any  feature  in  which  it  is  not  ac- 
curate?'*   Ward  demanded. 

"My  desk  is  indicated  in  red  ink,  and  it  is 
built  of  black  walnut." 

A  shout  of  enjoyment  went  up  at  the  exquisite 
frivolity.  Since  Ward  persisted  in  being  en- 
tirely unhumorous  he  began  to  lose  in  popular- 
ity- 

"Your  office,  I  assume  you  will  not  deny, 
is  the  second  of  the  suite  of  three?" 

"Certainly."  Lyman  made  a  great  feature 
of  his  concessiveness,  but  he  had  a  wary  eye  out 
for  the  end  of  the  sequence  of  questions. 

"The  first  of  the  series  is  the  only  one  that 
has  direct  communication  with  the  hall?"  Ward 
followed. 

Lyman  again  assented. 

"The  third  room  is  Mr.  Garvin's  private 
office?" 

"Yes."  Lyman  was  too  watchful  to  be  any- 
thing but  monosyllabic. 

"Is  there  any  way  by  which  a  visitor  may 
enter  Mr.  Garvin's  office  without  your  knowl- 
edge?" 

"I  am  frequently  absent.     But  at  other  times, 

173] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

unless  my  attention  was  very  much  absorbed,  I 
would  probably  know." 

"Are  you  frequently  absorbed?" 

"Frequently;  aflfairs  of  state,  you  know." 
The  wave  of  sympathetic  amusement  was  for 
the  witness's  pleasing  flippancy. 

"Are  you  frequently  absent?" 

"It  is  impossible  to  make  any  general  state- 
ment.   That  varies  with  the  days." 

"Do  you  recall  having  seen  these  gentlemen 
enter  Mr.  Garvin's  oflSce  during  the  last  six 
months?"  Ward  read  a  list  of  names  in  rapid 
succession  of  men  entirely  unconnected  with  the 
matter  in  hand.  In  each  case  Lyman  remem- 
bered. 

"Mr.  Mayo?" 

"Not  to  my  knowledge,"  was  the  emphatic 
answer. 

" — Gamble — Fams worth — Foster — "  For  a 
number  more  the  witness's  memory  held  good. 
"Mr.  Remsen?"  A  stir  ran  round  the  room, 
for  it  was  generally  known  that  Remsen  was  the 
missing  witness  who  had  been  spirited  away. 

"I  cannot  recall,"  said  Lyman,  imperturbably. 
And  so  audible  was  the  rustle  of  sympathetic 
amusement  that  the  judge  threatened  to  clear 
the  court-room  unless  order  was  restored. 

Ward  smiled  too.     But  the  smile  was  an  ugly 

[74] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

thing.  The  moral  cloud  that  was  over  them  all 
was  in  tune  with  his  own  thoughts.  "Is  anybody 
honest?"  he  was  wondering. 

"Queer  thing,  this  wave  of  dishonesty  that 
has  swept  over  us  all,"  Cowperthwaite  was 
thinking  with  his  tolerant  clearness  of  vision 
that  was  yet  far  from  being  either  cynicism  or 
bitterness.  "Just  a  temporary  phase,  I  imagine. 
No  more  real  connection  with  the  temper  of  the 
main  body  of  sound,  honest  men  than  the  thieves 
and  cutthroats  that  flourished  in  the  picaresque 
romance  of  the  eighteenth  century  had  with 
the  mass  of  staid  and  law-abiding  Englishmen. 
But  certainly,  at  this  moment,  sympathy  seems 
to  be  with  the  smart  liar.  That  fellow  is  lying,  of 
course — lying  to  order.  Garvin  won't  take  the 
stand  himself,  but  this  fellow  has  been  primed. 
Honest  chap  otherwise,  I  fancy.  Would  starve 
genteelly  before  he'd  break  through  a  baker's 
window  and  steal  a  loaf  of  bread.  He  justifies 
himself,  I  suppose,  by  saying  that  his  first  duty 
is  to  his  business  employer.  He  is  *  standing 
pat.'  Nice,  clean  chap  he  looks,  too.  Rather 
too  bad,  I  think.  I  wonder  whether  he,  or  Gar- 
vin, or  Mayo,  or  any  of  the  other  rotten  grafters 
are  really  responsible,  any  more  than  if  they 
had  caught  the  germ  of  the  bubonic  plague. 
Isn't  it  in  the  air.?*     I  wonder  if  it  isn't  the  people 

6  [75] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

— these  people  here  that  applaud  perjury — that 
make  the  rascals.  But  I  wonder  up  to  what 
point  they  will  stand  for  it." 

To  Ken  Ward  no  such  temperate  philosophy 
was  possible.  The  other  day  it  might  have  been 
— not  to-day.  Then  Ruth  was  on  her  throne 
— God  in  his  heaven.  Men  might  He,  but  there 
was  Ruth !  Ruth  with  her  straight,  high  stand- 
ards, her  rigorous  honesty  for  herself  mingled 
with  her  gentleness  in  judgment  of  dishonesty, 
her  conviction  that  "there  is  a  reason  for  it 
that  we  can't  see — ^no  one  wants  to  be  bad." 
The  husband  could  fight,  savagely  it  might  be, 
but  straight  out  from  his  shoulder,  and  with 
pity,  not  mahce,  for  the  chap  that  fell  under  the 
blow.  And — since  there  was  Ruth — the  pass- 
ing show  of  dishonor,  of  meanness,  of  cruelty 
aflFected  him  only  as  something  that  he  was  in 
duty  bound  to  opi)ose  to  make  the  world  more 
fit  for  Ruth.     But  now — 

The  court-room  faded.  Cowperthwaite,  the 
man  who  had  been  his  friend,  hiding — as  Ward 
thought — under  that  appearance  of  every-day 
cordiality  his  knowledge  of  his  own  treachery. 
Lyman's  subdued  smile  at  his  own  cleverness — 
Garvin — everybody — ^became  submerged  in  a 
general  moral  murkiness,  a  hateful  and  squalid 
mass  of  corruption.     He  felt  his  heart  fill  with 

[76] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

utter  disgust,  wholesale  and  cynical  contempt. 
All  the  standards  of  his  life  were  going  down 
before  a  flood  of  bitter  contempt  for  humanity, 
a  loathing  for  it — and  for  himself. 

The  trial  proceeded.  There  was  the  nagging 
iteration  of  Lyman's  loss  of  memory;  the  amuse- 
ment of  the  spectators  became  almost  hysterical 
as  the  morning  wore  on;  at  every  turn  the  city 
attorney  was  balked  by,  "I  don't  recall."  Some- 
thing had  sapped  Ward's  confidence  in  himself; 
he  himself  was  subtly  conscious  of  his  own  loss  of 
power.  He  began  to  lose  his  temper.  His  manner, 
from  being  straightforward  in  its  determination, 
became  one  of  personal  antagonism.  An  over- 
bearing violence  was  only  a  confession  of  defeat. 
His  manner  threw  the  burden  of  sympathy  on 
Lyman,  who  bore — surely  he  could  afford  to 
since  his  was  all  the  advantage — all  of  Ward's 
often  brutal  attacks  with  a  sublime  and  smiling 
patience. 

Cowperthwaite  was  often  forced  to  interpose. 
Unfortunately,  the  solution  that  Cowperthwaite 
thought  he  had  hit  upon  to  explain  Ken's  strange 
manner  had  roused  all  of  Cowperthwaite's  un- 
godly sense  of  humor.  Mistakenly  enough,  it 
struck  him  as  being  funny  that  old  Ken  should 
be  so  infuriated  at  that  predatory  kiss  of  his 
that  it  was  actually  affecting  his  manner  to  his 

[77] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

associate,  and  before  the  eyes  of  the  open  court. 
So  there  was  an  unsubdued  mischievous  twinkle 
in  his  eyes  when  he  met  Ken's  that  roused 
Ward's  sullen  anger  to  almost  ungovernable 
fury.  At  Cowperthwaite's  first  interference  Ward 
shot  a  glance  of  sheer  hatred  at  him.  Later,  his 
professional  habit  asserted  itseK  and  he  recovered 
his  calm. 

But  that  one  lapse  was  not  lost  on  the  keen- 
eyed  bucaneer  who  sat  just  back  of  Garvin. 
Mayo  was  watching  the  process  of  justice  which 
to-morrow  might  be  going  on  with  himself, 
not  Garvin,  as  the  accused.  Although  he  could 
not  imagine  it  possible  that  any  grand  jury 
could  be  found  that  would  return  a  true  bill 
to  an  indictment  against  him,  he  realized  that 
the  outcome  of  this  trial  would  be  a  large  factor 
in  determining  this.  And  he  had  no  idea  of  let- 
ting anything  escape  that  might  be  of  use  to 
him  later  on.  The  pretty,  deUcately  fair  daughter 
who  sat  with  him  showed  a  forehead  strained 
into  a  pained  and  wondering  attention.  It  was 
the  first  knowledge  that  her  life  had  aflForded  her 
of  the  sharp  passions  of  men  and  the  craft  with 
which  they  might  be  pursued  or  defended. 

With  a  sudden  effect  of  flagging  purpose  Ward 
turned  the  witness  over  to  Wilson;  the  lawyer 
had  the  idea  that,  since  it  was  going  to  be  mani- 

[78] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

festly  impossible  for  him  to  work  with  Cow- 
perthwaite  he  might  so  ignore  and  affront  him 
before  the  court-room  that  Cowperthwaite  him- 
self might  be  forced  into  resigning.  Wilson 
filled  up  the  time  with  futile  cross-questioning 
that  arrived  at  nothing.  The  witness  felt  the 
lessening  of  the  tension,  and  weary  himself 
from  what,  after  all,  had  been  a  long  strain, 
showed  but  scant  ceremony  in  answering  the 
questions.  Ward  sat  heavily  thinking.  Unless 
he  struck  some  new  vein  the  day  was  evidently 
to  be  an  utter  loss. 

With  a  smothered  exclamation  Ward  sat  for- 
ward and  began  to  search  hurriedly  among  the 
papers  on  his  desk.  Something  had  occurred  to 
him.  He  found  the  paper  that  he  sought  and 
studied  it  at  some  length.  At  the  close  of  his 
scrutiny  he  still  sat,  staring  straight  ahead  of 
him  in  a  brown-study,  trying  to  settle  with  him- 
self whether  he  could  use  the  method  that  had 
occurred  to  him.  It  was  a  daring  scheme  to 
try,  and  of  doubtful  propriety. 

"I  swore  to  myseK  I'd  fight  fair,'*  he  thought, 
darkly,  "even  if  they  used  every  rotten  method 
they  could  invent  to  cover  up  their  tracks. 
But  I  wonder  if  you  can  fight  grafters  by  straight 
means.  What's  the  use  of  being  finicking  nice 
when  they  can  bowl  over  every  straight  argu- 

[79] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

ment  you  can  put  up  just  by  turning  another 
lie?" 

Still  he  hesitated.  Up  to  this  moment  he 
had  kept  his  promise  to  himself,  and  they  had 
won.  Up  to  this  moment  every  link  in  the  chain 
of  evidence  had  been  forged  honestly  and  had 
held  good.  Through  police  grafter,  petty  taker 
of  "fines"  in  the  district  where  sin  had  raged 
unchecked  so  long  as  it  paid  good  tribute, 
through  Mayo's  chief  lieutenants,  through  big 
buyers  of  despoiled  city  privileges  like  Richard 
Garvin,  they  were  advancing,  undermining,  at- 
tacking, and  then  organizing  their  spoils  against 
him,  until  they  should  come  to  the  Big  Man 
himself,  the  respectable  owner  of  the  vaunted 
"business"  government,  more  dangerous  be- 
cause in  all  purely  personal  concerns  his  life  was 
stainless,  and  it  was  therefore  difficult  to  rouse 
feeling  against  him — merely  because  he  had 
corrupted  the  standards  of  civic  honor  so  that 
he  could  more  comfortably  choke  and  rob  the 
city  underneath  his  grasp.  Slow  and  painful 
as  it  had  been,  surely  their  course  had  been  in- 
evitably toward  success.  But  to-day  he  had 
failed.  And  Cowperthwaite  was  there  to  see  it. 
If  he  lost  this  case  Will  Cowperthwaite  would 
hear  the  judgment  given  against  him.  And  Cow- 
perthwaite would  see  him  beaten — again — 

[80] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

Wilson's  cross-examination  was  over.  The 
hour  had  come  for  the  noon  recess.  Ward 
lunched  alone.  But  even  when  the  court  as- 
sembled again  he  had  not  decided  what  he  would 
do.  It  was  when  he  met  Cowperthwaite's  eyes 
that  he  decided. 


CHAPTER  Vm 

"VT'OUR  Honor,"  Ward  said,  rising,  "I  am 
■■■  willing  now  to  dismiss  the  witness." 
The  movement  and  stir  in  the  court-room 
meant  that  the  public  generally  knew  that,  in 
the  absence  of  Remsen,  Lyman  was  the  most 
important  witness  in  the  case.  His  escape, 
therefore,  when  nothing  of  any  importance  had 
been  extracted  from  him,  was  nothing  short  of  a 
triumph  for  the  defense  and  for  him.  Lyman 
drew  in  a  long  breath  and  began  to  smile  his 
answer  to  congratulations  that  were  telegraphed 
him.  The  first  man  whom  his  eyes  sought  was 
Mr.  Garvin,  who  nodded  to  him  with  a  flush 
on  his  usually  colorless  face. 

The  attorney  waited  for  the  commotion  to 
subside.  There  was  an  unpleasant  gleam  in  his 
eyes: 

"I   ask   permission   to   introduce  some   new 

evidence,"  he  said  when  the  room  was  finally 

quiet,  his  eyes  on  the  judge.     "Something  that 

has  only  lately  been  brought  to  my  attention." 

Cowperthwaite  had  his  moment  of  surprise. 

[82] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

He  thought  he  knew  every  detail  of  Ken's  cam- 
paign. Every  possible  witness  had  been  exam- 
ined save  Mayo,  whom  they  had  decided  it 
would  not  be  wise  to  call  to  the  stand,  and  Rem- 
sen,  by  this  time  on  his  way  across  the  Atlantic. 
Both  of  the  lawyers  for  the  defense  were  on  their 
feet,  protesting.  Cowperthwaite  felt  some  in- 
dignation that  Ward  had  taken  such  a  step  with- 
out consulting  him;  evidently  it  was  going  to  be 
no  easy  thing  to  work  with  Ken  when  he  was  in 
this  mood.     But  the  judge  was  speaking. 

"The  court  rules  that  the  attorney  for  the 
prosecution  may  introduce  his  witness,"  Judge 
Barnard  was  saying  while  Cowperthwaite 
thought:  "What  witness  has  Ken  run  up  against? 
I  certainly  must  make  him  understand  that  I 
won't  be  ignored  in  this  way.  He  must  have 
been  on  the  chase  that  night  after  all —  His 
wondering  stopped  abruptly.  No  new  witness 
was  making  his  appearance  to  be  sworn  in. 
Instead  of  that.  Ward  had  reached  for  a  paper 
from  among  those  before  him.  It  was  note- 
paper — a  vivid  pink — 

"This  is  a  letter  from  Remsen,"  Ward  said. 
A  man  whom  we  contend  to  have  been  the 
agent  in  this  transaction."  Without  pausing  a 
moment  he  read  in  breathless  haste,  while  every 
one  was  too  thunderstruck   to   interrupt   him: 

[831 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

***Mr.  Kenneth  Ward,  etc. — I  am  on  my  way  out 
of  the  country.  Garvin  put  up  the  money  and 
I  have  to  do  my  part  of  the  bargain  to  get  it. 
But  if  you  can  string  things  along,  and  if  you  can 
make  it  worth  my  while,  I  might  come  back  and 
testify.     But  it  would  have  to  be  big  money — ' " 

The  court-room  was  in  an  uproar.  Both  of 
Garvin's  attorneys  were  on  their  feet,  shaking 
their  arms  at  Judge  Barnard.  Garvin  was  livid. 
The  judge's  voice  for  a  moment  dominated  the 
tumult,  but  what  he  said  could  not  be  distin- 
guished; it  was  Ward's  strong  voice  that  pre- 
vailed: " '  It  will  take  a  cool  $10,000  to  make  me 
tell  all  I  know.  I  went  to  the  Big  Man  with  the 
boodle—'" 

Then  the  defense  lawyers'  voices  were  heard. 
"Object!"  one  was  saying.  "Not  evidence!"  the 
other  was  shouting,  breathlessly. 

"I  sustain  the  objection,"  said  JudgeBamard, 
sternly.  "The  attorney  very  well  knows  that 
this  alleged  letter  is  not  evidence.  It  will  take 
very  little  more  for  me  to  commit  the  attorney 
for  contempt  of  court." 

Ward  sat  down,  smiling  evilly.  A  mighty 
protest  had  risen  in  him  against  the  system  that 
would  lose  to  the  country  a  case  that  was  morally 
right  because  of  a  legal  convention;  he  had 
always  been  stronger  on  equity  than  on  law. 

[84] 


AS    CAESAR'S  WIFE 

That  explained  his  action  in  some  part.  But 
it  was  also  true  that  he  was  seized  with  a  lawless 
passion  to  win  at  any  cost.  What  if  he  had 
deliberately  resorted  to  a  trick!  What  had  the 
world  done  to  him  but  betray  his  trust,  trick 
him!  The  end  was  a  just  one;  why  be  cautious 
about  means?  He  was  fighting  an  unclean 
growth  that  threatened  honest  men.  He  had 
been  ridiculously  scrupulous  before. 

"But  now  I'm  going  to  beat!'*  he  promised 
himself.  "I'm  going  to  beat  and  show  Will 
Cowperthwaite  that  I  can  do  it.  I  suppose  he's 
scandalized.  Well,  the  man  he's  so  keen  about 
fighting  is  ahead  of  him  on  one  score,  anyway: 
Mayo  never  stole  his  friend's  wife;  he's  clean  as 
'they  make  them  about  women!  The  judge  can 
rule  against  me  all  he  likes.  He  can  put  me  in 
contempt — I  can  fight  that  later.  But  the  jury 
heard  the  letter!  I  know  juries;  they  won't 
be  able  to  forget  it.  Whether  it's  legal  evidence 
or  not,  they  got  the  letter.  It  was  a  good  trick. 
And  I  turned  it!" 

The  room  still  simmered  in  excitement  that 
seemed  unable  to  subside.  Garvin's  lawyers  had 
gone  up  to  the  bar  and  were  in  heated  argument 
with  Judge  Barnard.  Ward,  still  ignoring  Cow- 
perthwaite, sent  Wilson  up  to  represent  their 
side,  and  sat  back,  waiting. 

185] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

Although  Ward  seemed  to  have  no  eye  for 
the  onlookers,  he  had  never  in  his  life  been  so 
keenly  observant.  It  seemed  to  him  all  at  once 
that  a  man  needed  to  have  eyes  in  the  back  of  his 
head  so  that  nothing  mifriendly  should  escape 
him  on  the  part  of  an  imfair  and  crooked  world. 
His  suspicion  was  rewarded  by  observing  that 
the  glances  that  were  directed  at  him,  admiring, 
of  course — what  American  does  not  applaud  a 
successful  trick! — ^had  an  undercurrent  of  irony. 
Yes,  he  was  quite  sure  he  was  right  in  this. 
So  he  felt  his  heart  harden  against  a  really  friend- 
ly nod.  Of  course  there  was  something  treacher- 
ous in  that,  too. 

In  all  the  confusion  Cowperthwaite  had  taken 
no  part.  He  sat  quietly,  his  keen  face  looking" 
straight  ahead.  To  tell  the  truth,  at  the  be- 
ginning Ken's  astounding  action  had  stunned 
him  out  of  all  possibility  of  action.  The  ruse 
was  so  at  variance  with  the  whole  course  of 
Ward's  life,  so  opposed  to  the  motives  with  which 
both  of  them  had  been  conducting  their  fight  up 
to  this  moment,  that  for  an  instant  Cowper- 
thwaite wondered  if  Ken's  mind  were,  somehow, 
unhinged. 

But  the  stupefaction  lasted  only  for  the  in- 
stant. Invthe  next  he  turned  to  Ken.  Ward 
sat,  black  eyes  half  glazed  in  gloomy  brooding. 

[86] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

That  was  not  his  friend  Ken  Ward,  whose 
very  heart-beats  he  could  have  sworn  he  knew 
the  measure  of.  The  vague  feeling  that  had 
already  overcome  him,  that  Ken  was  somehow 
different  from  what  he  had  been  before,  was  now 
a  sure  conviction.  The  reason?  With  impa- 
tience Cowperthwaite  pushed  the  speculation 
away  from  him.  Whatever  might  be  his  per- 
sonal feeling,  he  had  his  public  duty  in  the  mat- 
ter. Although  Ward  had  not  consulted  him — 
had  in  fact  pointedly  ignored  him — he  still  was 
his  associate,  equally  responsible,  with  Ward, 
before  the  men  who  had  put  them  both  where 
they  were,  for  the  conduct  of  the  case.  And 
he  must  take  action. 

Garvin's  lawyers  had  finished  their  con- 
ference with  Judge  Barnard  and  were  returning 
to  their  places.  It  was  evident  that  they  had 
not  had  the  satisfaction  that  they  sought,  for 
their  faces  were  gloomy  and  indignant. 

"Barnard  ought  to  throw  the  whole  thing 
out,"  Cowperthwaite  thought,  dispassionately. 
"He  would  have  a  perfect  right  to  take  it  from 
the  jury.  I  thought  Barnard  was  a  good  deal 
of  a  man — I've  got  to  do  something.  Ken  will 
think  any  action  against  him  is  treachery,  but 
I   can't  stand   for  this." 

The  buzz  of  conversation  that  arose  from  every 

[87] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

part  of  the  court-room  was  silenced  as  Cowper- 
thwaite  rose  to  his  feet. 

"Your  Honor,'*  he  said,  in  his  even  voice, 
"as  associate  counsel  in  this  contention  I  have 
a  statement  to  make.  It  is  due  to  myself  and 
to  the  integrity  of  the  prosecution  to  say  that 
the  introduction  of  this  letter  is  without  my  con- 
sent or  knowledge.  I  have  not  been  consulted 
by  my  associate  in  this  matter.  Had  I  been 
consulted  I  should  have  protested  against  such 
methods.  I  most  emphatically  disapprove  of 
the  action  of  the  prosecuting  attorney." 

There  was  a  hushed  silence  throughout  the 
court-room.  As  Cowperthwaite  seated  himself 
again  he  met  Ward's  eyes.  This  time  Ken  faced 
him  squarely.  He  sent  his  friend  a  straight 
challenge  of  implacable  hate.  Cowperthwaite 
returned  it  with  a  calm  that  had  in  it  his  usual 
disconcerting  tinge  of  humor.  But  Judge  Bar- 
nard was  speaking;  there  was  no  time  for  private 
feud. 

They  listened  breathlessly.  In  that  they  were 
one  with  the  whole  concourse.  With  the  first 
words  it  was  evident  that  the  judge  was  taking 
a  firm  stand  that  no  one  had  quite  expected  of 
him.  Because  of  Ward's  unjustifiable  action, 
in  introducing  matter  that  was  not  testimony, 
Judge  Barnard  had  taken  the  case  from  the 

[88] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

jury.  Jury,  principals,  counsel,  and  witnesses 
were  dismissed.  Almost  with  his  last  words 
the  judge  had  left  the  court-room,  leaving  Ward 
on  his  feet  indignantly  protesting.  All  of  the 
work  of  weeks  had  been  as  nothing.  The  Gar- 
vin case  was  as  if  it  had  not  been! 


CHAPTER  IX 

"jV/TOST  of  the  spectators  had  melted  away. 
■^  -■'  Groups  of  those  who  had  lingered  to  dis- 
cuss the  situation  were  here  and  there.  The 
largest  group,  of  course,  was  the  one  that  had 
gathered  around  Garvin  and  Mayo.  Several 
men  that  were  identified  with  large  business 
interests  of  the  city  were  there,  plainly  relieved 
at  the  outcome.  Lyman  had  joined  them  and 
was  being  congratulated  with  much  facetious- 
ness,  Garvin  was  flushed  and  jocular,  Mayo  and 
the  lawyers  cheerful  and  anecdotal. 

"It's  just  an  act  in  the  comedy,"  Mayo  was 
saying  to  Garvin.  "Of  course  they'll  go  after 
me  next.  This  is  the  time  of  the  Righteousness 
play,  you  know.  But  there  is  always  the  sacred 
right  of  appeal."  They  all  laughed.  "If  they 
get  any  jury  to  return  a  true  bill  against  me  I 
think  I  know  where  to  get  a  wedge  in.  That 
fellow  Ward  hates  Cowperthwaite  like  a  good 
one.  Never  noticed  it  before,  but  I  caught  the 
look  Ward*  gave  him.     That's  the  point  of  at- 

[90] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

tack.  Law  be  hanged.  It's  the  personal  thing 
that  tells  every  time." 

He  went  back  to  his  daughter,  who  was  won- 
dering rather  dismay  edly  why  her  father  seemed 
to  be  so  friendly  with  a  man  who  had  just  been 
accused  of  such  awful-sounding  things.  Help- 
ing his  "Httle  girl"  on  with  her  girlishly  trim 
and  dainty  white-serge  jacket  the  Big  Man  left 
the  room. 

Cowperthwaite  had  slipped  out  some  time 
before,  thinking  that  the  place  was  not  a  par- 
ticularly good  one  for  an  encounter  with  Ken. 
Ward  had  fallen  into  a  black  and  brooding  de- 
jection. He  gathered  up  his  papers  and  put 
them  into  their  case,  either  ignoring  or  respond- 
ing by  a  nod  of  the  curtest  to  the  occasional 
greeting  that  came  his  way.  A  good  many  people 
craned  for  a  glimpse  of  him.  Garvin's  chief 
counsel,  on  his  way  to  the  clerk's  desk,  waved 
him  a  jocular  salutation. 

"What  does  Cowperthwaite  mean  by  throw- 
ing the  whole  thing  out — damn  him!"  he  thought, 
savagely.  "An  out  and  out  traitor!  Judge  Bar- 
nard would  never  have  plucked  up  spirit  to  take 
the  case  from  the  jury  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Cow- 
perthwaite's  grand-stand  play.  Now  we'll  have 
to  begin  the  grind  all  over  again.  What  a 
farce  the  human  show  is,  anyway!"  Ward 
7  [91] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

plunged  out  of  the  room  and  was  in  the  full  tide 
of  the  street  current  when  he  took  up  his  bitter 
thoughts  again.  "One  set  of  scavenger  ants 
sitting  up  in  judgment  of  another  set  because  the 
first  happens  to  feed  a  httle  more  directly  upon 
the  corruption  that  in  one  way  or  another  gives 
us  all  our  food!" 

Ugly  as  his  thoughts  were,  instinctively  he 
clung  to  even  their  support.  For  he  was  nearing 
home — where  Ruth  was.  ^ 

He  hadn't  written  to  her  since  he  had  left  for 
Chicago;  he  had  merely  telephoned  when  he  got 
in  that  morning.  He  wouldn't  have  been  going 
home  then  if  his  common  sense  had  not  told  him 
that  things  had  to  be  taken  up  again  somehow, 
and  the  longer  he  delayed  the  more  difficult  the 
task  would  be. 

"I've  got  to  think  it  out  somehow,"  he 
thought.  But  as  often  as  he  tried  to  imagine 
what  their  meeting  would  be  like  his  bruised 
mind  failed  to  register  any  picture. 

It  was  not  until  he  drew  out  his  latch-key  to 
open  the  door  that  he  had  any  consecutive 
thought.    Then  it  was  to  caution  himself. 

"Now  see  here,"  he  said  to  the  snarling  dog 
that  crouched  low  within  him.  "No  half-way 
measures.  *If  you  have  made  up  your  mind  to 
condone  it" — a  wave  of  sick  loathing  swept  over 

[92] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

him  at  his  own  word  whispered  to  his  own  sick 
soul — "don't  let's  have  any  grudging.  I  won't 
stand  a  single  allusion  to  it.  It's  done  and 
finished.     Do  a  whole  day's  work!" 

Yet  with  the  opening  of  the  door  there  seemed 
at  first  so  little  to  contend  with.  Instead  a 
breath  like  incense  that  swept  out  to  meet  him 
and  meant  home.  For  an  instant  its  old  in- 
fluence was  upon  him;  every  pulse  was  quickened 
and  yet  steadied.  Then  misery,  heavier  for  its 
momentary  withdrawal,  surged  back  upon  him 
laden  with  all  the  drift  and  uncleanness  of  the 
bitter  sea. 

In  the  hall  he  fixed  his  mind  on  the  near  ex- 
ternals. He  was  very  careful  how  he  hung  up 
his  hat. 

"What  is  it  she  has  contrived  to  do  with  the 
house?"  he  wondered,  pulling  off  his  gloves. 
"It's  the  usual  commonplace  narrow  arrange- 
ment. We  have  had  little  enough  money  to 
put  into  it,  Heaven  knows.  There  she's  inde- 
pendent enough.  Ruth  has  never  cared  about 
money.  It  certainly  was  not  that  way,  through 
love  of  luxury,  she  has  proved — vulnerable — " 

He  pulled  himself  together.  This  was  not  the 
promise  he  had  made  to  himself.  Couldn't  he 
follow  out  a  train  of  ordinary  impersonal  thought 
without  ending  up  there? 

188] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"What's  the  charm  of  the  house?"  he  specu- 
lated, determinedly.  The  rooms  were  simple 
enough;  just  the  absolutely  necessary  chairs,  the 
settee,  and  a  stand  or  two.  The  piano — to  be 
sure  that  was  a  good  one.  Music  was  one  of 
Ward's  minor  passions.  If  he  hadn't  been  so 
busy  he  would  have  given  a  good  deal  of  time 
to  it.  He  even  composed  a  little — rather  wild, 
haunting  snatches  of  melodies.  The  walls  were 
of  the  simplest — one  tone  throughout.  But  the 
pictures — well,  that  was  Ruth's  hobby.  Still, 
there  were  very  few — only  hung  just  right. 
The  draperies  somehow  caught  up  just  the  right 
note  of  the  walls,  the  furniture  tapestries  were 
perhaps  a  note  or  two  higher  in  the  scale,  and  the 
rugs  a  trifle  lower.  But  she  had  somehow  put 
a  sense  of  space  and  airiness  into  everything. 
And  every  chair  a  nook  for  a  friend  to  be  com- 
fortable in.  The  lamps  just  right  for  reading 
or  casting  a  glow  to  bring  into  added  beauty 
some  picture  that  widened  the  city  constraint 
with  a  glimpse  of  spring  skies  or  harvest  fields. 

Ruth  came  down  the  stairs  humming. 

"How  curious!"  he  thought  to  himself.  Then 
he  caught  the  quaver  in  her  voice  and  recognized 
the  effort.  That  was  the  worst  of  this  deadly 
domestic  setting  for  a  tragedy;  you  knew  so 
well  the  woman's  every  mood.     The  knowledge 

[94] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

had  added  power  to  hurt  you  because  the  learn- 
ing of  it  had  been  with  love,  not  hate. 

He  glanced  at  her,  forcing  the  steadiness  of 
the  look.  He  did  not  kiss  her.  She  wore  a 
gown  that  he  liked.  He  knew  them  all;  there 
were  so  few  of  them.  She  didn't  usually  wear 
this  one  except  for  something  festive. 

"Is  she  planning  to  go  to  the  theater?"  he 
wondered.  Then  his  heart  contracted.  The 
pretty  frock  meant  that  she  wanted  to  please 
him.  Something  like  hatred  rose  in  him  at  the 
thought.  But  he  forced  it  down,  saying  to  him- 
self, with  grim  honesty,  that  he  would  probably 
have  been  even  more  angry  had  she  been  care- 
lessly dressed  and  negligent.  That  would  have 
meant  something  to  him  more  damning  still. 

He  started  up-stairs  and  she  made  a  motion 
to  go  with  him.  But  some  undefined  constraint 
seized  her  and  she  stayed  below.  Every  step 
that  he  took  up-stairs  without  her  hurt  her. 

Ward  made  short  work  with  his  dressing.  It 
was  often  rather  a  lengthy  process,  for  Ruth 
hovered  companionably  around  and  told  him 
everything  that  had  happened,  while  he  struggled 
with  his  tie  or  made  intermittent  play  with  his 
hair-brushes.  Sometimes  she  mussed  his  hair 
all  up  after  he  had  brushed  it,  trying  ways  to 
hide  the  white  lock  which  bothered  her.   'Then 

[95] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

he  had  to  brush  it  all  over  again  and  it  took 
time.  He  commented  in  his  own  mind  on  her 
staying  down-stairs.  And  again  he  admitted 
that  had  she  done  otherwise  it  would  have  been 
worse.  But  he  hadn't  decided  what  he  was  going 
to  do. 

The  dinner  was  quickly  over.  It  was  ad- 
mirable, too,  with  the  soup  he  especially  liked 
and  that  salad  that  the  cook  couldn't  make. 
That  meant  that  Ruth  had  taken  the  time  her- 
self. The  old  phrase  about  the  way  to  a  man's 
heart  being  through  his  stomach  occurred  to 
him.  She  was  trying  to  propitiate  in  good 
earnest.  "Nothing  like  the  tender  devotion  of 
a  woman  with  something  to  expiate" — the 
cynical  words  of  some  tainted  club-man  floated 
into  his  mind  from  some  dusty  comer. 

"No,  things  went  pretty  badly  to-day,"  he 
was  admitting  to  her,  with  a  latent  pleasure  in 
detailing  something  disastrous.  "It  was  Cow- 
perthwaite's  fault.  It's  going  to  kill  our  side, 
having  him  brought  into  the  case.  He  took  a 
stand  to-day  in  direct  opposition  to  me;  played 
traitor  just  to  pose  as  a  superior  being.  But  all 
the  same  I  stole  a  march  on  him."  For  the 
moment  he  had  spoken  of  Cowperthwaite  with 
unconsciousuess.  But  the  red  that  flew  into  her 
cheeks  showed  that  the  thought  had  been  with  her 

196] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

waiting.  That  knowledge  put  grim  enjoyment 
into  his  manner  as  he  told  her  of  his  cleverness. 

She  looked  a  little  aghast  when  the  full  force 
of  it  dawned  upon  her. 

"But — "  she  started  to  protest. 

He  knew  just  the  way  she  would  look  at  it. 
Of  course  she  would  think  Cowperthwaite  right, 
not  him.  Hatred  of  the  man  climbed  its  monot- 
onous way  into  his  heart  again  and  sank  into  its 
accustomed  impotence.  He  noticed,  with  a  cruel 
relish  of  her  confusion,  that  she  dropped  the 
subject  and  sat  with  her  eyes  unhappily  on 
the  table.  He  went  on  with  lingering  pleasure 
to  tell  her  the  text  of  Remsen's  letter. 

"I  had  supposed  you  would  wait,"  she  broke 
in,  eagerly.  "Not  use  the  letter  now,  but  see 
if  you  couldn't  get  hold  of  Remsen  for  the  Mayo 
trial  later." 

That  was  absolutely  the  right  and  reasonable 
course  of  action;  he  knew  that  perfectly  well. 
He  had  often  used  Ruth's  suggestions  to  ad- 
vantage. But  nothing  that  she  could  say  now 
seemed  to  have  any  weight  with  him. 

"That's  just  like  a  woman's  idea  of  business," 
he  overrode  her  opinion,  roughly.  Of  course, 
too,  it  was  part  of  her  defense  to  pretend  earlier 
knowledge  of  the  letter.  The  dinner  dragged 
to  its  unhappy  end. 

[97] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

There  had  been  times  when  Ruth  had  looked 
at  him  with  a  sort  of  dawning  wonder. 

"Ken  is  taking  it  worse  than  I  had  supposed 
he  would,"  she  thought.  Being  an  honest 
woman,  with  a  conscience  that  was  normally 
active,  she  had  prepared  herself  to  expect  that 
her  husband  would  come  home  to  her  in  some 
such  mood.  The  fear  of  it  had  made  the  days 
they  had  been  parted  very  unhappy.  "They 
say  a  man  can't  love  without  being  capable  of 
jealousy,"  she  admitted  that.  "But  how  can 
any  one  feel  that  kind  of  jealousy  and  still  have 
faith. 5^  Would  I  feel  that  way  about  Ken.^^" 
She  let  her  mind  dwell  on  the  subject  and  was 
rewarded  by  feeling  quite  the  proper  warmth 
of  indignation  at  the  mere  idea  of  some  mythical 
woman  daring  to  assume  she  had  the  right  to 
entertain  a  tender  sentiment  for  Ken.  That 
quite  cheered  Ruth.  She  would  feel  almost  that 
way  about  Ken. 

But  occasionally,  as  she  caught  an  under- 
current of  contempt  in  his  carefully  controlled 
and  ceremoniously  polite  utterance,  she  wondered 
if  he  were  not  making  almost  too  much  of  even 
that  provocation.  "I  didn't  think  he  would 
punish  me  quite  so  hard."  Her  imagination 
had  not  gone  beyond  some  irritation  that  could 
be  cured  by  the  unfailing  argument  of  her  cheek 

[98] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

on  his.  But  it  was  with  the  beginnings  of  terror 
that  she  reaHzed  how  ir^possible  it  would  be  to 
come  a  step  nearer  to  this  strange,  new,  sardonic 
man. 

Just  once  she  got  up  her  courage  to  allude 
directly  to  the  incident  that  lay  between  them. 
It  was  before  they  had  turned  up  the  lights  in 
the  study.  For  an  instant  she  felt  near  to  him 
and  comfortable.  So  much  so  that  she  took 
hold  of  the  lapel  of  his  coat. 

"Ken,"  she  began.  Then  she  knew  that  she 
was  really  miles  away  from  him.  So  she  dropped 
his  coat  and  stood  quiet  and  alone,  her  arms 
straight  at  her  sides.  "Don't  ever — ^please — 
speak  to  me  about  that — matter — with  Mr.  Cow- 
perthwaite.  I  feel  horribly  about  it.  I  shall 
never  quite  forgive  myself.  It  hurts  me  so  to 
think  about  it  when  I  am  alone.  I  wanted  you 
to  know  all  about  it,  but  I  think  we  would 
both  be  happier  if  we  could  forget  it  now.  I 
don't  believe  I  could  bear  it  if  you  ever  spoke  of 
it.  You  see,  a  woman  has — a  sort  of  burning 
shame  about  such  a  thing.  Do  please  let's 
both  try  to  forget  it.  And  don't  ever  talk  to 
me  about  it  again.     Will  you  promise?" 

He  nodded  dumbly.  His  heart  was  too  full 
of  the  wretched  irony  of  it  to  speak. 

"Good  Lord!"  he  groaned  to  himself,  "what 

[991 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

are  women  made  of?  Has  she  no  moral  nature? 
And  I  set  her  up  to  be  my  conscience!  What 
kind  of  a  world  is  this,  anyhow?  She  would  be 
less  horribly  shameless  if  she  were  frankly  cynical 
about  it,  more  of  a — business  woman  like — the 
creatures  of  the  street!" 

Then  he  reproached  himself:  "In  ordinary 
kindness,  sympathy  is  the  feeling  I  ought  to 
have  for  her.  I  ought  to  pity  her.  If  she  has 
sinned  she  must  be  suffering."  But  he  couldn't. 
His  hatred  rose  again.  It  was  for  the  other 
women  he  could  have  sympathy. 

It  seemed  to  him  that  his  heart  must  have 
given  way  imder  the  pressure  of  his  agony. 
While  he  was  thinking  he  could  endure  nothing 
more  it  grew  blessedly  numb.  He  could  feel 
nothing  more.  The  idea  dropped  from  him 
that  he  had  anything  necessary  to  decide. 

He  waited  until  he  was  quite  sure  something 
had  put  an  end  to  the  aching.  Then  he  smiled 
at  her  almost  naturally  and  said: 

"I  understand.     We  won't  talk  about  it." 

They  had  settled  down  to  one  of  their  accus- 
tomed evenings.  Ruth  had  not  yet  had  time 
to  get  off  the  last  set  of  letters  he  had  marked 
for  her.  He  was  able  to  recognize  the  one  he 
had  wanted  manifolded  the  other  evening  with- 

[100] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

out  a  shiver.  Ward  was  even  a  little  amused  at 
Ruth's  evident  impression  that  she  was  of  ap- 
preciable use  to  him;  he  had  rather  a  pleasant 
glow  of  masculine  superiority  as  he  made  the 
decision  that  there  had  been  a  little  too  much 
of  that.  He  congratulated  himself  that  at  last 
he  was  going  to  have  peace.  Soon  the  type- 
writer was  clicking  busily.  The  cheerful  glow  of 
the  lamps  lighted  both  him  and  her.  He  looked 
around  the  familiar  room  with  a  surprising  sense 
of  well-being.  Then  he  bent  busily  over  his 
desk.  There  must  be  nothing  that  could  dis- 
turb it,  this  dear-bought  peace.  Why  was  it 
that  some  insistent  voice  kept  hammering  at 
him  with  the  phrase,  "Dishonorable  peace,  dis- 
honorable peace"? 

For  a  few  minutes  he  really  worked.  He  had 
brought  home  an  accumulation  of  mail  to  be 
gone  over.  He  read  some  of  the  letters — with 
this  change  in  program  there  would  be  an 
oppressive  amount  of  correspondence.  Two 
Ruth  could  answer  for  him — that  one  must  go 
to  Wilson — his  branch  of  the  work.  This  one 
he  must  take  care  of  himself. 

He  opened  another  letter,  but  he  couldn't 
fix  his  attention  on  it.  His  thoughts  wandered. 
His  hands  fell  heavily  on  the  paper.  His  eyes 
looked  straight  ahead. 

[1011 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

So  he  sat  for  perhaps  an  hour.  His  wife, 
busy  with  her  routine  work,  didn't  notice  that 
the  papers  before  him  never  changed. 

The  room  was  a  blur,  the  papers  were  like 
fallen  leaves  of  thought  before  him.  He  was 
brooding  over  them,  passive,  but  with  a  misty 
sense  of  loss,  too  vague  to  be  a  feeling,  too  real 
to  be  banished.  In  the  shadow  world  where  he 
hung  there  was  no  feeling.  But  there  was  an 
insistent  voice  muttering  that  somewhere  there 
was  discord.  He  fingered  the  papers  absently 
like  a  musician  hunting  for  a  chord. 

The  thoughts  that  he  usually  lived  with  came 
floating  up  before  him.  Were  they  notes  of  a 
score  or  were  they  thoughts  that  he  had  known.'' 
Each  one  as  it  swam  up  was  in  vague  discord 
— shreds  and  tags  of  life — remembered  friend- 
ships— familiar  ideals — dreams  of  action — his 
mother — truth — all  without  form  or  sequence, 
all  troubled,  all  discordant.  Like  a  flash  of 
blinding  revelation  it  came  to  him  what  was  the 
matter.  They  stood  still  on  the  gigantic  score 
before  him.  They  were  all  out  of  key,  the  notes 
of  the  spoiled  composition.  They  were  pitched 
too  high  for  Ruth.     The  score  could  not  be  sung! 

In  a  fever  he  went  to  work  to  change  them  as 
they  drifted  once  more  before  him,  each  note 
too  high,  with  Ruth  fallen,  to  make  life  livable, 

[102] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

each  one  so  eager  to  be  pulled  down.  "Truth." 
What  childish  nonsense!  No  truth  is  absolute; 
expediency's  the  thing.  "Honor."  It  could  not 
be  thought  that  Ruth  was  not  as  high  as  any 
woman  living,  so  pull  the  others  down.  Honor 
is  purely  a  matter  of  circumstances.  If  any  man 
is  challenged  at  his  breaking-point  he  must  go 
down.  "Love!"  When  that  floated  to  him  his 
soul  cried  aloud.  But  he  pulled  that  down,  too. 
"  Love  " — what  was  it  but  sex  attraction?  Source, 
since  flesh  is  hose  of  all,  of  everything  we  call  virtue 
when  it  runs  with  the  tide.  But  when  the  wind  is 
counter  to  the  current,  the  brewer  of  all  the  storms 
of  hell.  "Tenderness" — what  sickly  sentiment 
to  credit  it!  What  is  it  but  the  pleasant  ease 
of  satisfied  desire.'*  "Sacrifice" — nothing  but  a 
subtler  form  of  selfishness. 

So — now  for  Ruth.  Her  tone  is  perfect! 
She  is  no  more  guilty  than  if  she  had  not  fallen. 
She  too  belongs  to  Nature.  It's  Nature's  blame. 
Ruth  was  subjected  to  an  attraction  too  over- 
whelming for  the  moment  to  resist ! 

When  he  had  quite  finished  his  grim  task  of 
transposing  he  drew  a  long  breath  and  looked 
around  the  room.  The  light  was  pleasant. 
He  had  a  glorious  sense  of  resting  when  his  work 
was  done.  His  eyes  sought  Ruth.  She  met  them 
smiling.     When  she  saw  the  warm  light  in  his 

[103] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

eyes  in  place  of  what  had  been  there  she  rose 
and  came  to  him. 

She  smoothed  back  the  white  lock  as  she  had 
always  done,  and  just  as  he  always  did  he 
caught  her  hand  and  kissed  it.  He  pulled  her 
down  on  the  arm  of  his  chair.  She  was  so  happy 
to  find  his  anger  over  that  her  eyes  were  full  of 
magic.  Her  red  lips  smiled.  She  was  of  the 
beauty  of  an  enchantress  in  a  Mohammedan 
paradise.  And  yet  her  happiness  was  that  of 
a  forgiven  child. 

There  was  this  thing  that  Ruth  had  to  contend 
with.  Whatever  might  be  the  source  of  the 
light  that  sparkled  in  her,  it  infallibly  translated 
itself  into  terms  of  lovely  flesh.  Her  soft  hands 
might  spend  their  strength  in  deeds  of  loving 
service.  But  when  one  looked,  one  saw  that  they 
were  plump  and  white  and  dimpled,  with  rosy 
palms  that  melted  into  arms  of  rounded  curves. 
Her  joy  might  be  all  of  purest  spirit.  But  when 
it  made  her  laugh,  to  a  man  she  was  only  Na- 
ture's snare.  So  now,  when  her  whole  soul  was 
tenderness,  her  husband  saw  creamy  skin,  blue 
eyes,  and  warm,  red  hair. 

Still  life  had  been  sweet  and  fair  to  Ruth. 
She  was  used  to  have  her  best  thoughts  meet 
their  sudden  death  in  kisses.  She  laughed  again 
for  pure  joy  of  loving.     What  did  it  matter  if 

[1041 


vi/Miej   tKOiiTtOWllN  <"lAffC 


JUST    AS    HE    ALWAYS    DID    HE    CAUGHT    HER    HAND    AND    KISSED    IT 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

the  arms  were  rough,  since  they  were  Ken's 
arms? 

The  evenmg  had  waned.  "Come,"  said  Ken. 
This  time  they  shut  the  door  together. 

When  they  turned  to  the  staircase  some  mis- 
giving seized  her  and  she  hung  back.  But  his 
arm  around  her  drew  her  closer  so  her  head  fell 
on  his  shoulder.  They  climbed  the  steps.  What 
was  mere  instinct  against  the  fever  of  her  longing 
to  be  at  peace  with  Ken.f*  Still,  with  the  first 
step,  she  felt  that  she  had  trodden  on  something 
that  had  been  most  dear  to  her  and  left  it  bruised, 
gagged,  and  helpless  there  below. 


CHAPTER  X 

IV/TAYO  hooked  his  cane  into  the  back  of  the 
-^  -*-  chauffeur's  collar.  The  car  stopped  in- 
stantly. The  Big  Man,  having  found  that  this 
was  the  quickest  way  to  insure  prompt  attention, 
had  learned  just  the  angle  at  which  he  had  to 
lean  out  beyond  the  dust-screen  to  do  it;  and, 
after  some  self-respecting  protest,  each  of  the 
motor  experts  conceded  that  it  was  "the  old 
man's  way." 

To  his  daughter  Mayo  said: 

"Drive  around  the  park  a  few  times,  girlie. 
You  can  pick  me  up  at  the  tool-house."  Then, 
in  spite  of  some  haste,  he  stopped  to  pinch  her 
smooth  cheek.  "I  think  you  may  run  into 
Lyman.  He  asked  me  at  what  time  we  would 
drive." 

The  girl,  one  reproachful  eye  on  the  chauffeur's 
back  and  mindful  of  the  dignity  of  twenty,  began 
to  protest  her  entire  indifference.  But  already 
Mayo  had  plunged  through  a  bit  of  shrubbery. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  shrubbery  Mayo  kept 
in  sight  the  man  his  keen  eye  had  distinguished, 

[  106  ] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

in  spite  of  the  soft  evening  shadows.  The  almost 
unbearable  burst  of  early  spring  heat  had  brought 
out  swarms  of  people.  Progress  was  interrupted 
by  salutations,  half  shy,  haK  confident,  on  the 
part  of  many  a  day-laborer  who  recognized  the 
Big  Man  from  frequent  visits  to  the  ward.  The 
very  fact  that  the  parks  had  become  real  recrea- 
tion centers  for  the  slum -bound  was  due  to 
him. 

He  had  thrown  himself  into  the  project  with 
as  much  grim  determination  as  he  displayed  in 
pushing  some  measure  through  the  Council  that 
was  to  fill  his  own  pockets.  He  had,  in  fact,  gone 
down  deep  into  his  own  pockets  to  complete  the 
undertaking.  And  he  had  carried  through  the 
whole  big  enterprise,  while  the  various  philan- 
thropic organizations  were  still  appointing  com- 
mittees to  look  into  the  matter. 

It  was  Cowperthwaite  with  whom  Mayo  finally 
caught  up.  Some  time  before  he  accosted  him, 
however.  Mayo  slackened  his  pace  so  that  when 
he  greeted  his  quarry  it  could  be  with  a  casual 
air.  He  also  assured  himself  that  no  possible 
witnesses  were  in  sight.  These  concessions  to 
diplomacy  made,  there  was  no  more  beating 
about  the  bush. 

"I  have  received  information  that  you  fellows 
intend  indicting  me." 

8  1107] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

Cowperthwaite  admitted  pleasantly  that  that 
might  be  true. 

Mayo  paused  a  moment  to  be  sure  he  had  the 
best  method  of  approach. 

"I  want  to  congratulate  you  on  the  stand  you 
took  in  the  Garvin  case  last  week.  It  happened 
to  be  helpful  to  us,  but  I  appreciate  your  attitude 
apart  from  that.  Ward's  action  was  pretty  sharp 
practice.  If  any  of  our  lawyers  had  stooped 
to  such  methods  wouldn't  there  have  been  a 
howl!" 

He  laughed  heartily,  quite  xmdeterred  by  the 
fact  that  Cowperthwaite's  face  was  merely  placid. 
The  next  moment  he  was  serious  again. 

"I  must  admit  I  was  surprised  in  Ward,"  he 
said,  with  a  probing  glance  at  Cowperthwaite. 
"He  had  struck  me  as  being  an  honest,  forceful 
fellow.  I  never  saw  him  use  anything  but  high- 
class  methods  before — personally  I  dislike  having 
to  use  any  other  kind  myself.  Moreover,  it 
struck  me  that  his  manner  showed  some  ani- 
mosity toward  you.  I  had  always  supposed  you 
two  were  pretty  close  together."  He  studied 
Cowperthwaite's  quiet  profile  with  his  bright 
blue  eyes.  There  was  a  whole  list  of  questions 
hidden  underneath  what  he  said. 

"Ward* was  clearly  out  of  order,"  was  Cowper- 
thwaite's only  comment. 

[108] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

Mayo  was  becoming  impatient.  Finesse  was 
not  his  chief  accomplishment.  He  was  accus- 
tomed to  dealing  with  men  who  knew  a  business 
opportunity  when  they  saw  it.  Cowperthwaite, 
of  course,  must  be  like  all  the  rest.  It  was  merely 
a  question  of  finding  what  the  stake  was  he  was 
playing  for.  It  was  probably — no,  it  would  be 
better  not  to  make  an  offer  of  money. 

"Absurd  to  have  to  beat  about  the  bush,"  he 
thought,  contemptuously.  "Money,  position,  or 
power — they  all  amount  to  the  same  thing  in  the 
end;  each  is  an  avenue  leading  to  the  others. 
It's  mere  squeamishness  to  quibble  about  the 
end  at  which  you  happen  to  enter  the  maze.  But 
I  suppose  I've  got  to  play  this  fellow  for  some- 
thing lofty.  *  Broader  field  where  he  can  have 
greater  opportunity  for  good,'  that's  his  bait,  I'll 
wager.  I  thought  perhaps  I  could  get  at  him 
through  some  grudge  against  Ward.  But  he's 
too  cool  about  that.  I'm  not  so  sure  about  Ward, 
though — " 

"What  career  are  you  aiming  for,  Cowper- 
thwaite?" he  asked,  turning  abruptly  toward 
the  other  man. 

"I  haven't  made  my  plans."  Cowperthwaite 
was  smiling  slightly.  "It's  good  of  you  to  be 
interested.  But  I  really  haven't  looked  much 
beyond  this  campaign."    He  turned  and  looked 

[109] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

Mayo  directly  in  the  face.  "  I  confess  I  am  rather 
interested  in  the  outcome  of  this." 

Mayo  liked  the  straight  look.  He  always 
preferred  dealing  with  men  whose  eyes  didn't 
flinch. 

"What's  your  interest  in  this  Righteousness 
play?"  he  demanded,  bluntly,  as  he  turned  into 
a  secluded  alley  between  avenues  of  trees. 

Cowperthwaite  was  slapping  various  pockets 
in  the  effort  to  locate  a  cigar-case. 

"A  theory,"  he  replied,  laconically. 

"You  don't  look  like  a  piffling  theorist.  You 
look  like  a  man  who  would  want  results." 

"Well,  are  we  not  getting  them.?"  Cowper- 
thwaite's  smile  was  a  broad  one  this  time. 

Mayo  acknowledged  the  thrust. 

"Oh,  for  the  moment,"  he  said,  good-natured- 
ly. "You've  got  us  on  the  run,  of  course.  But 
it  won't  last,  you  know.  Ward  was  only  smug- 
gled in  because  I  got  careless  and  didn't  bother 
about  it.  "But  you  are  all  on  the  wrong  side  of 
the  proposition,  all  the  same.  The  way  I've  run 
it  is  the  only  way  a  modern  city  government  can 
be  run.  The  men  who  take  the  trouble  to  see 
that  the  city  is  cleaned  and  lighted  and  paved, 
and  that  vice  is  kept  within  reasonable  bounds, 
and  do  all* your  dirty  work  for  you  by  the  most 
approved   modem   methods,   have  got   to  pay 

[110] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

themselves  if  you  don't  pay  them  enough  to 
make  it  worth  their  while — " 

"The  divine  right  of  graft?"  Cowperthwaite 
put  in. 

"All  this  howling  about  graft  is  nonsense." 
Mayo  turned  on  him.  "The  complex  life  of  a 
city  can't  exist  without  business  methods.  A 
pretty  mess  your  saintly  theorists  would  make 
of  it.  They'd  go  home  with  a  moral  nausea  after 
mincing  around  one  day  on  the  surface  of  Ward 
Eighteen.  You  must  admit  the  reformer's  job 
is  a  pretty  easy  one.  Statistics  always  shout 
for  the  latest  manipulator.  I've  saved  millions 
to  the  city  treasury  and  I  have  made  ours  a 
clean  city  and  a  well-lighted  one — and  that  last 
has  a  more  Christianizing  effect  than  having  the 
babies  learn  their  letters  from  the  Decalogue. 
It's  safe  now  for  your  girl  and  even  your  boy  to 
walk  down-town.  I  tell  you  a  one-man  power 
can  do  as  much  in  a  day  as  your  cumbersome 
*  representative'  government  can  put  through  in 
a   year." 

"I  can't  say" — Cowperthwaite  cut  off  the  end 
of  a  cigar  rather  deliberately — "that  I  feel  our 
business  methods  are  of  quite  the  order  to  be 
taken  as  a  standard." 

"Maybe  not,"  said  the  other  man,  with  a 
shrug.  "But  they  are  the  standard  of  the  day, 
[111] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

all  the  same.  And  to  be  effective  you've  got  to 
work  with  the  current,  not  against  it.  If  you  ac- 
complish big  things  the  method  doesn't  count." 

"That's  where  we  differ,"  said  Cowperthwaite, 
quickly.  "The  whole  stream's  tainted  if  the 
source  is  corrupted." 

"That's  another  thing  you  chaps  abound  in — 
figures  of  speech."  The  Big  Man  dismissed  the 
subject  impatiently.  "But,  to  get  back  to  solid 
ground,  if  my  case  does  come  up,  it  might  be 
possible  for  you  to  arrange  matters  so  the  case 
might  be  dismissed.  And  if  you  prove  yourself 
a  friend,  whatever  you  ultimately  work  for. 
Supreme  Court  or  corporation  practice,  I  have 
connections  pretty  much  everywhere  and  would 
be  able  to  help  a  friend." 

The  shamelessness  of  the  bid,  coupled  with  the 
queer  impression  of  honesty  that  the  man  made 
on  him,  amused  Cowperthwaite,  and  he  laughed 
outright. 

"By  the  time  I  get  within  a. hundred  miles  of 
the  Supreme  Court  in  Washington,  Mr.  Mayo," 
he  said,  with  the  utmost  friendliness,  "I  will 
probably  have  had  the  misfortune  to  facilitate 
the  progress  of  you  and  your  friends  toward 
the  State  penitentiary.  In  that  event  I  cannot 
flatter  mys^elf  that  the  peculiar  charm  I  seem  to 
have  exerted  over  you  will  hold." 

[112] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

Mayo  showed  all  his  strong,  white  teeth  in  an 
uproarious  laugh. 

"You  needn't  worry  about  me,  my  young 
friend,"  he  chuckled,  finally.  "By  the  agree- 
able clemency  of  our  judicial  system  we  have 
several  years  at  our  command,  you  know; 
several  years  and  several  judges  and  divers 
lawyers  and  juries.  As  I  said  before,  the  honest 
and  indignant  citizen  is  peculiarly  susceptible 
to  fatigue.  It's  the  wicked  man,  like  myself, 
that  always  sees  the  sun  go  down  on  his  labor. 
But  I  didn't  much  think  I  could  do  anything 
with  you.     I'll  have  to  have  a  talk  with  Ward." 

Cowperthwaite  was  really  startled  for  the 
moment  at  the  cold-blooded  cynicism  of  such  an 
announcement. 

"You'll  never  get  Ward,"  he  said,  quickly. 
"He's  straight  as  a  string." 

"The  trick  he  tried  the  other  day  was  a  little 
inconsistent,  wasn't  it,  with  the  high-brow 
methods  you  Civic  Club  chaps  are  adopting?" 
Mayo's  eyes  were  on  Cowperthwaite.  "What's 
the  quarrel  between  you,  anyway.''"  he  demand- 
ed, with  his  disconcerting  unexpectedness.  "He 
looked  as  if  he  could  have  knocked  you  down 
with  pleasure." 

Cowperthwaite  kept  his  face  tranquilly  non- 
committal. 

[118] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"I  fancied  myself  that  he  wasn't  quite  him- 
self that  day.  A  temperamental  chap  like  that  is 
bound  to  be  subject  to  moods.  Perhaps  some- 
thing had  gone  wrong — ^hadn't  slept  much  or 
something."  His  own  words  conjured  up  the 
episode  of  over  a  week  ago.  And  the  mis- 
chievous devil  that  abode  somewhere  in  Cowper- 
thwaite  without  often  getting  an  airing  popped 
out  at  that  moment  and  lighted  up  his  gray  eyes 
with  a  gleam  of  amused  daring.  "Had  some 
disagreement  with  his  wife,  perhaps,"  he  finished, 
demurely. 

The  Big  Man  saw  it,  of  course.  It  was  his 
business  to  see  everything.  But  he  shut  the  firm 
mouth  that  could  keep  secrets  and  said  only: 

"Very  likely." 

They  had  made  the  rounds  of  the  park,  teem- 
ing with  hard-worked,  heat-worn  mothers  with 
sleepy  babies  and  with  boisterous  youngsters  as 
yet  unsubdued  by  privation.  Mayo  looked  up 
and  saw  that  they  were  at  the  point  where  he 
had  told  Claire  to  meet  him.  At  the  thought  of 
her  his  heart  softened  into  almost  foolish  fond- 
ness. 

"She  ought  to  be  back,"  he  muttered.  And 
then  he  saw  the  car  slipping  noiselessly  and  slowy 
along  wh|le  Claire  kept  an  anxious  lookout  for 
him.     Mayo  could  not  repress  a  fond  chuckle. 

[114] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"There's  my  little  girl  looking  for  me.  You 
can  see  by  her  face  that  she  isn't  sure  I  haven't 
been  kidnapped.  She  thinks  I'm  barely  able 
to  toddle."  Then  he  added  in  a  growl,  for  he 
wasn't  sure  what  made  him  give  his  unaccus- 
tomed confidence  to  this  man  who  was  avowedly 
his  opponent:  "Funny — the  more  delicate  and 
tender,  the  more  to  be  cherished  and  protected 
a  girl-child  is,  the  more  she's  got  that  heavenly 
craving  in  her  to  fondle  and  protect  the  one 
that's  dear.  You  see  her — ^her  mother  left  me 
to  her.  That's  what  women  are  like — the  right 
ones." 

The  man's  deep  tone  moved  Cowperthwaite. 
He  hesitated  irresolutely,  telling  himself  that  the 
proper  thing  to  do,  since  in  a  short  time  he  would 
have  to  fight  the  old  bucaneer,  was  to  take  him- 
self oflF.  At  that  point  the  girl  gave  a  cry,  "  There's 
father!"  and  the  machine  stopped  at  the  curb 
opposite  them.  Cowperthwaite  looked  up,  in- 
terested to  see  the  "little  girl"  of  whom  the  Big 
Man  spoke  so  tenderly.  A  vague,  harmonious 
impression  remained  with  him  from  the  glimpse 
of  her  that  day  in  court.  Then  he  observed  that 
Lyman  was  with  her.  With  his  foot  on  the 
running-board  of  the  motor  Mayo  hesitated  and 
turned  back.  He  drew  Cowperthwaite  away  a 
pa.e  oi»two,  his  hand  on  the  lawyer's  arm. 

[116] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"I'd  be  glad  if  you'd  bear  that  matter  in 
mind,"  he  said,  almost  as  if  against  his  will. 
"You  see,  I  don't  care  much  about  the  verdict 
myself;  I'll  get  it  overruled  quick  enough  if  it's 
against  me.  But — my  little  girl" — Mayo's  voice 
faltered  momentarily  from  its  crisp  directness — 
"  doesn't  understand  business,  of  course.  It  might 
hurt  her  to  think  any  one  could  disapprove  of 
her  dad." 

Before  Cowperthwaite  could  reply  Mayo  had 
swung  himself  up  into  the  seat  beside  the  chauf- 
feur. 

As  the  motor  rolled  away  Cowperthwaite  stood 
on  the  sidewalk,  his  hat  still  raised;  he  had  the 
indistinct  sensation  that  something  infinitely 
sweet  and  innocent  was  passing.  Mayo,  suddenly 
glancing  back,  caught  the  emotion  on  his  face 
vanishing  like  the  afterglow,  but  still  full  of 
meaning.  The  Big  Man  gave  one  quick  look  at 
his  daughter. 

"Might  there  be — ?  he  certainly — "  Mayo  won- 
dered. Then  he  shut  his  mind  softly  against  the 
thought.  His  daughter  could  never  be  a  pawn 
in  the  game.  Her  place  was  higher  and  with- 
drawn. 


CHAPTER  XI 

T~\URING  the  two  weeks  before  the  Mayo 
-■—^  case  came  up  for  trial  Ward  had  his  mo- 
ments of  discouragement.  For  precaution  they 
had  sworn  out  several  indictments  against  Mayo, 
one  of  them  the  Garvin  case  in  a  new  form;  but 
the  one  they  were  to  try  first  was  the  charge 
of  having  sold  a  contract  for  street-paving. 

As  has  been  said.  Ward's  special  talent  was  his 
power  over  witnesses.  He  either  succeeded  in 
gaining  the  confidence  of  the  men  or  in  dominat- 
ing their  wills ;  until  the  very  man  who  had  gone 
into  the  trial,  committed  to  lie  intelligently  for  the 
defense,  found,  often  to  his  great  disgust,  that  he 
had  proved  an  excellent  witness  for  the  prosecu- 
tion. Ward's  success  had  finally  grown  to  be  a 
tradition,  and  a  witness  often  went  to  the  stand 
self -hypnotized  into  the  belief  that  sooner  or  later 
the  prosecuting  attorney  would  get  from  him  all 
he  knew. 

But  this  set  was  proving  somewhat  obdurate. 
Ward,  too,  had  his  superstition.  That  was  that 
unless  he  got  hold  of  witnesses  outside  of  court  he 

[117] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

could  do  nothing  with  them  on  the  stand.  There- 
fore his  own  behef  in  his  success,  one  of  the 
strongest  factors  in  it,  was  shaken.  He  woke 
two  days  before  the  trial  in  a  sullen  temper  which 
would  have  meant  with  another  man  shaken 
nerves.  He  hadn't  been  sleeping  well  lately. 
He  was  surly  with  Ruth  at  the  breakfast-table. 
She  seemed  to  irritate  him.  It  was  the  moment 
at  which  most  men  would  have  found  a  "bracer" 
imperatively  necessary.  But  Ward  had  never 
found  that  sort  of  thing  a  temptation.  He  was 
too  seasoned  by  his  years  of  roughing  it  to  go  to 
pieces  physically.  To  be  sure,  he  was  drinking 
a  quantity  of  strong  coffee.  But  that  seemed  to 
have  no  more  effect  on  the  crude  force  of  the  man 
than  so  much  water. 

When  Ward  reached  his  oflBce  that  20th  of 
May,  his  admirably  enduring  young  assistant  re- 
ported that  one  Samuel  Holding  was  being  de- 
tained there  for  him  to  intenaew.  Holding  was 
the  foreman  of  Brice,  the  paving  contractor  in 
the  case  they  were  to  try.  Before  Brown  sailed 
he  thought  he  had  unearthed  a  clue  that  pointed 
to  Holding  having  had  something  to  do  with  the 
financial  transactions  between  Brice  and  Mayo. 
It  is  certain  that  Holding  was  making  arrange- 
ments to  leave  the  city  when  the  subpoena  was 
served.     ♦ 

[1181 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

Holding  was  a  fine,  big  brute  of  a  man,  strong 
red  in  his  cheeks,  and  coarse,  black  hair.  Accus- 
tomed to  a  rough  sort  of  authority  over  the  men 
of  his  working  squads,  he  did  not  take  kindly  to 
even  the  nominal  degree  of  deference  demanded. 

He  had  been  instructed  to  be  deferential  to 
Ward  and  he  held  to  a  sort  of  civility  throughout 
the  interview.  Unlike  Lyman,  he  did  not  betray 
quite  such  elaborate  forgetfulness.  Ward  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  from  him  a  good  deal  of  infor- 
mation on  anything  that  did  not  bear  directly 
upon  the  subject  of  the  indictment;  indirect 
evidence  it  was,  since  it  revealed  some  of  the 
questionable  business  methods  of  Brice's  paving 
company.  But  since  these  points  were  of  second- 
rate  importance  Ward  spent  very  little  time  on 
them.  Brown  had  discovered  that  Holding  had 
often  gone  directly  between  Brice  and  Mayo. 
In  the  absence  of  any  check  or  money-order  that 
would  cover  so  large  a  transaction,  the  inference 
was  that  the  price  of  the  deal  had  been  given 
directly  to  Mayo  in  the  form  of  currency. 

They  hoped  to  prove  that  Holding  was  the 
man  who  had  carried  the  money.  Ward  roused 
himself  from  the  lethargy  with  which  he  had 
begun  the  day.  He  assumed  from  the  first  that 
Holding  had  been  the  agent. 

It  was  over  men  of  Holding's  type  that  Ward 

[119] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

had  most  influence.  Something  in  his  own  ele- 
mental force  carried  authority  with  it,  where 
with  a  more  subtle  mind  he  might  be  often  at  a 
loss.  So  he  began  his  examination  with  all  the 
confidence  in  the  world. 

Following  some  preliminary  queries,  to  which 
Holding  made  just  the  answers  which  were  to  be 
expected,  denying  all  knowledge  of  the  transac- 
tion in  question.  Ward  demanded  of  him  a  de- 
tailed account  of  his  actions  from  the  time  he 
reported  for  duty  on  the  fifteenth  of  November 
until  he  knocked  off  work  and  went  home. 

With  an  air  of  some  enjoyment  Holding  began 
a  verbose  and  unbearably  detailed  recital  of  a 
day  filled,  according  to  his  account,  with  an  in- 
credible amount  of  activity  varied  by  an  inor- 
dinate number  of  beers.  Ward  listened  pa- 
tiently and  then  started  him  on  the  sixteenth, 
interrupting  his  story  now  and  then  to  put  some 
sudden  question  to  him  which  attacked  from  a 
new  angle  his  statement  that  he  was  entirely 
ignorant  of  any  money  paid  by  his  chief  to  the 
Big  Man.  But  Holding,  unduly  familiar  and 
jocular,  or  covertly  insolent,  revealed   nothing. 

It  was  after  he  had  started  the  man  on  the 
narrative  of  the  seventeenth  day  that  Ward, 
irritatedly  conscious  that  his  morning  was  being 
taken  up  to  no  purpose,  suddenly  had  an  in- 

'  [ 120  ] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

spiration.  An  eminently  "safe"  method  of  con- 
veying graft  which  had  been  used  in  another 
city  and  exposed  in  the  papers  at  the  time  came 
into  his  mind.  Evidences  had  not  been  lacking 
that  the  Machine  in  his  own  city  had  kept 
strictly  up  to  the  most  modem  and  improved 
nethods  in  all  of  its  operations.  In  the  midst 
of  Holding's  story  of  an  interview  with  his  boss 
to  receive  instructions  Ward  interrupted  him: 

"What  route  did  you  follow  back  to  Green 
Street.''" — ^the  street  where  paving  was  being 
done  that  day. 

Holding  glibly  recited  the  usual  route. 

"When  did  you  get  time  to  go  to  Baker 
Street?"  This  was  where  the  largest  safe-de- 
posit company  in  the  city  was  located.  It  was 
a  random  shot,  but  it  told.  Holding  for  a 
moment  was  plainly  disconcerted.  Before  he 
answered  Ward  followed  it  up: 

"What  was  the  number  of  the  safe-deposit 
box  in  which  you  had  been  instructed  to  leave 
the  money  your  chief  had  intrusted  to  you?" 

By  this  time  Holding  had  recovered  his  self- 
possession.  He  denied  having  stopped  at  the 
safe-deposit  company  and  denied  all  knowledge 
of  any  box  there. 

"If  you  testify  to  a  falsehood  under  oath  we 
will    have   you    up   for   perjury,"    Ward    said, 

11211 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

severely.  But  the  man  turned  surly  and  for 
the  next  few  questions  was  obstinately  ignorant. 
From  whatever  quarter  the  lawyer  attacked  him 
the  result  was  the  same. 

Perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  wait  until  he 
could  find  out  whether  he  could  get  a  record 
of  the  transaction.  On  the  other  hand,  he 
didn't  want  Holding  to  get  out  of  his  hands. 
Some  one  at  the  safe-deposit  might,  moreover, 
be  able  to  identify  Holding.  What  would  be 
the  best  method  to  break  down  the  man's  de- 
termination and  get  him  to  admit  the  share  he 
had  in  the  matter.'^ 

"A  Httle  soHtude  may  help,"  he  thought, 
grimly. 

A  ring  brought  his  oflSce-boy. 

"Ask  Mr.  Wilson  to  come  here,"  he  said, 
while  Holding  looked  at  him  furtively,  wonder- 
ing what  the  lawyer  had  "up  his  sleeve." 

"Take  Mr.  Holding  into  the  next  room  and 
see  that  he  is  alone  there,"  he  said,  quietly. 
"I  want  him  to  have  a  period  in  which  he  can 
refresh  his  memory  of  a  certain  transaction. 
You  can  bring  him  back  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour.** 
His  confidence  was  rising.  He  began  to  feel 
that,  after  a  time  of  suspense,  he  would  be  able 
to  get  hold  of  his  witness.  And  he  was  certain 
that  meant  the  success  of  the  case. 

[122] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"Do  you  want  me  to  put  the  screws  on  a 
bit?"  Wilson  said,  lingering.  He  realized  that 
the  city  attorney  was  in  a  better  humor  than  he 
had  been  and  reflected  the  knowledge  in  his  own 
brighter  manner. 

Ward  shook  his  head  and  Wilson  ushered  Hold- 
ing out  of  the  room.  For  a  few  minutes  Ward 
thought  hard.  The  papers  relating  to  Holding 
and  his  possible  relation  to  Mayo's  case  were 
spread  out  before  him.  He  went  over  and  over 
them,  looking  for  a  possible  new  avenue  from 
which  he  could  startle  Holding  into  the  admis- 
sion he  wanted.  He  called  up  the  safe-deposit 
people  over  the  'phone.  The  clerk  who  had 
this  matter  in  charge  was  away.  Ward  left  a 
message  for  him  to  call  him  up  as  soon  as  he  got 
back.  He  refreshed  his  recollection  of  the  streets 
Holding  would  have  to  traverse  from  Brice's 
office  to  the  safe-deposit  company;  he  figured  out 
the  lapse  of  time. 

For  the  first  minutes  his  mind  worked  like 
clockwork.  Then  for  another  interval  he  knew 
the  thought  of  Ruth  was  coming  back  and  fought 
desperately  to  keep  himself  from  it.  But  it  was 
to  no  avail.  Back  it  all  swept — the  flood  of 
misery,  of  shame,  benumbing  his  mind,  paralyz- 
ing his  will,  undermining  the  foundations  of  his 
belief  in  the  efficacy  of  right  action,  of  any  action. 
9  [  123  ] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

He  was  trembling  with  the  shock  of  it  when 
Wilson  brought  Holding  again  into  the  room. 
At  first  Ward  looked  at  him  unseeingly,  not 
comprehending.  His  own  agony  obsessed  him. 
Then  he  remembered.  He  raised  his  head  and 
looked  at  the  man  questioningly. 

Holding  was  a  fine,  forceful  male.  One  could 
see  there  would  be  no  hesitation  there  to  fight 
for  those  things  that  he  considered  essential 
to  his  manhood.  Their  moral  standards  might 
be  different.  Holding  might  be  corrupt  to  the 
core  in  his  business  relations.  But  if  what  he 
thought  his  honor  were  menaced  he  would  fight! 
If  it  were  his  wife —  Ward  shrank  away  from 
his  own  thought.  The  other  man  would  not  be 
living,  triumphing.  Holding  would  not  have 
forgiven  his  wife,  be  living  with  her.  Ward's 
forehead  scorched.  And  then  it  was  cold  with 
drops  of  sweat.  He  was  sick  with  disgust  for 
everything.  He  couldn't  bear  the  man  in  his 
sight  a  minute  longer.  He  wiped  his  forehead 
and  stammered  to  Holding: 

"You  needn't — stay  now.  I  won't  need  you 
until  the  case  comes  to  court.  Or — I'll  talk  to 
you  another  time — or  get  what  I  want  then — " 

In  his  haste  to  get  Holding  out  of  the  room  his 
voice  was  apologetic.  He  found  difficulty  in 
meeting  the  eye  of  the  wondering  boor.     When 

[124] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

he  did  meet  them  Holding  almost  shouted.  The 
lawyer's  eyes,  as  he  tried  to  face  the  other  man, 
were  cowed. 

Holding  wondered  just  what  piece  of  bril- 
liancy of  his  own  had  done  it.  He  swelled  with 
a  sense  of  his  own  omnipotence,  turned  on  his 
heel  more  than  half  insolently  and  went  whistling 
from  the  room. 


CHAPTER  Xn 

TF  Mayo,  as  many  asserted,  had  made  the  city 
■■■  contributory  to  him  to  the  extent  of  several 
millions,  there  was  Httle  in  his  house  or  manner 
of  living  to  show  it.  The  house  was  moderate 
in  size,  plain  and  comfortable,  in  a  quarter  of  the 
city  that  had  never  been  more  than  respectable, 
and  now  was  left  so  far  behind  in  the  growth 
of  the  city  that  it  was  dishearteningly  shabby. 

In  comparison  with  sagging  gates,  broken 
shutters,  and  woodwork  gray-brown  from  chronic 
lack  of  paint,  the  Mayos'  wide,  square,  red- 
brick house,  always  freshly  painted  as  to  doors 
and  window-sills  and  shutters,  and  shining 
bright  as  to  broad-paned  windows,  and — won- 
der to  relate — with  not  one  bar  of  its  spiked 
iron  fence  broken,  represented  the  one  hearten- 
ing bit  of  prosperity  and  self-respect  upon  the 
street. 

There  were  a  few  of  Mayo's  plain  old  city 
friends  who  knew,  or  suspected,  the  bit  of  tender- 
ly hidden  sentiment  that  kept  him  loyal  to  the 
old  house  *and  the  old  street.     It  was  the  fh-st 

[126] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

home  of  his  young  manhood,  the  one  to  which 
he  had  taken  Claire's  mother  after  the  baldly 
simple  ceremony  by  which  the  world  had  given 
its  consent  that  they  should  be  one.  But  there 
was  another  motive  as  deeply  hidden  and  per- 
haps quite  as  potent  as  this.  Where  he  ruled  he 
preferred  to  rule,  not  because  his  subjects'  eyes 
were  dazzled  with  the  show  of  riches,  but  because 
he  was  the  strongest  man  among  them,  holding 
his  apparently  impregnable  position  as  he  had 
won  it — ^by  reason  of  the  dominating  force  that 
pushed  him  always  to  the  front.  Therefore  he 
kept  his  fortune — whatever  it  might  be — care- 
fully stored  away,  so  much  ammunition  to  be 
used  in  warfare.  But  his  home  was  guarded  a 
bit  more  jealously  still. 

Few  of  his  business  associates  knew  the  inside 
of  it.  But  it  happened  that  on  the  eve  of  the 
date  set  for  his  trial  the  Big  Man  slipped  on  a 
banana  peeling  and  sprained  his  ankle.  Con- 
sequently several  of  those  who  were  concerned 
were  summoned  to  the  house  to  confer  with  him 
relative  to  the  defense.  Brice,  Holding's  prin- 
cipal, was  there,  a  black-eyed  man  with  a  jaw 
like  a  steel  trap;  and  Holding  and  Mayo's  at- 
torneys. The  Big  Man  had  retained  the  same 
lawyers  that  had  conducted  the  defense  in  the 
Garvin  case;  there  were  no  shrewder  criminal 

[127] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

lawyers  in  the  city,  unless  one  considered  those 
whose  assignment  to  a  case  would  brand  it  im- 
mediately as  one  that  could  be  won  only  by 
crooked  legal  makeshifts.  Brice  was  evidently 
nervous.  He  was  a  self-sufficient,  arbitrary  man, 
but  at  this  moment  he  was  leaning  a  good  deal 
on  Holding  with  his  reports  of  victory  over 
Ward. 

The  room  in  which  they  held  their  consulta- 
tion was  the  second  of  the  series  of  three  square, 
old-fashioned  apartments  that  occupied  the  first 
floor  of  Mayo's  house.  It  was  furnished  com- 
fortably enough,  but  without  one  item  of  super- 
fluous decoration.  The  big  chairs  were  leather- 
covered,  the  pictures  on  the  wall,  "Belshazzar's 
Feast"  and  other  equally  solemn  art  efforts 
contemporary  with  it.  Claire's  tasteful  hand, 
which  was  beginning  to  be  felt  in  the  rest  of  the 
house,  had  been  stayed  at  the  door  of  her  father's 
study.  From  the  front  room  came  the  strains 
of  a  piano  very  softly  played  and  still  further 
softened  by  the  closed  folding-door.  It  happened 
to  be  Sunday  afternoon,  and  the  music,  while  it 
wandered  through  many  ages  and  chose  among 
many  composers,  had  in  it  always  something 
that  was  gently  in  tune  with  the  simpler  and  more 
austere  observance  of  the  day. 

The  Big  Man  sat  at  the  head  of  a  huge  library 

[128] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

table,  his  bandaged  foot  on  a  chair  at  the  side, 
so  he  was  sHghtly  turned  away  from  the  others. 
Around  the  desk  were  the  lawyers,  Mayo*s 
chief  lieutenant  among  the  ward  politicians,  and 
Brice.  They  had  just  heard  Holding's  report 
of  his  interview  with  Ward. 

"You  think  he  had  his  hand  on  the  safe-de- 
posit business?"  asked  Brice,  with  his  air  of 
having  unwillingly  let  something  valuable  escape 
with  his  words. 

"Sure!"  Holding  had  lost  something  of  his 
awe  of  his  employer  with  the  novel  sense  of  im- 
portance. "But  I  must  have  put  him  off  the 
track,  for  he  let  it  drop." 

"That's  curious,"  put  in  the  senior  counsel. 
"From  what  I  know  of  Ward  he's  the  last  man 
to  let  go  of  an  idea  once  he  has  got  it.  He  hangs 
onto  it  like  a  bulldog." 

"Maybe  he  wasn't  really  warm,"  suggested 
Brice,  rather  eagerly. 

"Repeat  just  what  Mr.  Ward  said,"  Mayo 
directed  Holding. 

"Holding  repeated  his  account.  "And  then 
when  I  came  back  into  the  room  he  just  sort  of 
faded  away,"  he  ended.  "He  looked  at  me  like 
he  was  kind  of  afraid  of  me." 

Every  one  smiled  involuntarily  at  Holding's 
swelling  chest.     But  his  employer  put  an  end 

[129] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

to  his  period  of  self-satisfaction  by  saying,  dryly : 
"You'd  better  wait  and  see  that  Mr.  Ward 
doesn't  turn  you  inside  out  when  he  gets  you  in 
the  witness-box.  Suppose  you  go  now  and  ab- 
sorb all  the  starch  you  can  into  your  system." 

After  his  departure  the  discussion  ran  for  some 
moments  on  the  character  of  the  new  jurymen: 

"There's  no  use  expecting  anjiJiing  from 
them,"  said  Mayo,  finally,  with  decision.  "When 
you've  got  the  whole  Civic  Club,  what  can  you 
expect.'^" 

"Maybe  when  Judge  Barnard  hears  that  the 
Governor  has  jumped  into  it  that  may  have  some 
effect,"  put  in  one  of  the  others. 

Mayo  spoke  with  some  impatience: 

"No,  nothing  can  be  done  with  Barnard, 
either.  I  had  him  sounded  the  other  day  and 
there's  nothing  doing.  He'll  rule  for  us  only  if 
the  weight  of  evidence  is  for  us.  Our  job  is  to 
see  to  it  that  the  weight  of  evidence  is  for  us." 

"Well,  there's  not  a  particularly  rosy  outlook 
there,  for  if  Ward  has  got  hold  of  the  idea  that 
money  was  deposited  in  the  safe-deposit  for  you 
by  Holding  no  power  on  earth  will  keep  him 
from  making  out  a  pretty  heavy  case  against 
you."  Brice's  mouth  closed  over  the  unpleasant 
fact  with  such  alacrity  that  it  savored  of  en- 
joyment.   » 

11301 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"Exactly  so.  The  thing  to  do  is  to  prevent 
Ward  from  digging  out  that  interesting  fact," 
said  Mayo,  coolly. 

"You'll  never  do  that  in  the  world  if  he's 
on  the  scent,"  began  the  senior  counsel.  But 
the  other  lawyer  spoke  for  the  first  time: 

"Say,  what's  the  matter  with  Ward  lately? 
He's  not  up  to  his  usual  form.  Do  you  suppose 
there's  anything  in  this  story  that  Holding 
tells?" 

"It's  not  likely — "  began  some  one  else.  But 
Mayo  pushed  their  opinions  aside  with  good- 
humored  indifference. 

"Ward's  the  man  to  get  hold  of.  He's  be- 
ginning to  go  to  pieces.  I  haven't  made  up  my 
mind  yet  whether  it's  some  personal  enmity  to 
Cowperth  waite — ' ' 

"But  they  have  always  been  great  friends — 
knew  each  other  as  boys.  I  remember  Ward's 
telling  me  that  once.  That's  been  one  thing 
that's  made  it  hard  for  us." 

"I  don't  care  how  much  they  have  been 
friends." 

It  was  characteristic  of  Mayo  that,  although 
he  rarely  raised  his  voice  above  its  easy  level, 
it  always  dominated. 

"There  is  something  wrong  there  now.  There 
was  either  absolute  hatred  or  a  pretty  good  imi- 

[131] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

tation  of  it  that  I  caught  in  one  glance  that  he 
launched  at  Cowperthwaite.  I  have  no  means 
of  knowing  whether  it  is  anything  but  some  pass- 
ing disagreement,  but  I  have  my  theory.  And 
it  may  be  that  in  that  is  our  best  method  of  get- 
ting the  verdict.  Something  has  happened  to 
throw  Ward  oflF  his  balance.  It  may  make  him 
miss  his  opportunity  in  this  Holding  matter. 
Then  by  holding  them  down  to  the  lack  of  direct 
evidence  we  may  win  out.  Or  it  may  be  that 
if  Ward  hates  Cowperthwaite  hard  and  per- 
manently we  can  get  at  Ward  more  directly. 
That's  my  job;  we'll  wait  and  see.  In  any  case, 
it's  my  judgment  that  it's  Ward  we  want  to 
aim  at.  If  we  don't  do  more  than  make  him 
lose  his  temper  twenty  times  a  day,  he's  got  a 
good  hot  one  and  undignified  wrath  always  tells 
for  the  other  side.  And  now  I  guess  that's  as 
far  as  we  can  go  for  to-day.  You've  got  all  our 
witnesses  letter-perfect,  I  suppose?"  And  the 
genial  nod  he  gave  in  response  to  the  assurance 
that  it  was  so  dissolved  the  meeting. 

Left  to  himself,  Mayo  threw  open  the  window 
to  let  out  the  cigar  smoke,  took  up  the  paper, 
and  disposed  his  injured  foot  more  comfortably. 
The  evening  was  coming  on;  the  moment  was  a 
peaceful,  quiet  one.  The  situation  he  was  in 
troubled  him  only  moderately.     He  had  always 

[132] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

taken  chances  and  had  always  counted  the  cost. 
Miraculously  enough,  Claire  had  seen  nothing 
of  the  approaching  trial.  She  rarely  looked  at 
the  papers,  and  Mayo  had  taken  pains  to  leave 
none  lying  around.  He  didn't  want  her  troubled 
before  it  was  necessary  for  her  to  be.  The  few 
friends  who  came  to  the  house  had  received  a 
hint  from  him. 

The  picture  of  his  daughter  in  the  crisply, 
lacily  white  frock  she  had  worn  at  her  commence- 
ment the  year  before  faced  him  from  a  silver 
frame  on  his  desk.  Frocks  of  that  nature  were 
rare  enough  in  their  joint  experience  for  this 
one  to  have  been  commemorated.  Wide  as  were 
the  Big  Man's  political  and  business  associations, 
their  social  circle  was  but  little  more  extensive 
than  the  one  Mayo  and  his  young  wife  had  made 
together.  His  social  instincts  were  much  the 
same;  he  had  cared  for  nothing  else.  There- 
fore Claire  had  few  friends;  it  was  surprising  how 
few. 

"Too  few,"  he  thought,  his  eyes  on  the  fair 
sweetness  of  the  face.  "I  wonder  if  I  have  done 
her  an  injury  keeping  her  to  myself  in  this  way. 
Perhaps  she  ought  to  have  more  young  folks 
around — more  suitors  to  choose  from."  He  ad- 
mitted this  to  himself  reluctantly,  with  a  rueful 
smile  at  the  twinge  of  fatherly   jealousy   the 

[133] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

thought  gave  him.  "If  her  mother  had  lived 
she'd  have  known  how  to  manage  it."  His 
heart  stood  still  a  moment,  as  it  always  did  at 
that  thought. 

He  struck  open  a  new  page  of  the  paper  and 
read  the  head-lines  rather  absent-mindedly. 
"Claire  would  have  her  train — she'd  hold  her 
own  with  any  one,"  his  thought  dropped  back. 
"Lyman  really  cares  for  her,  I  think.  Every 
man  I've  seen  her  with  has  admired  her;  they 
couldn't  help  it.  Even  Cowperthwaite — and  he's 
a  cool  one.  I  saw  it  in  his  face  as  he  looked 
after  her." 

Involuntarily  the  picture  of  his  daughter  with 
her  beauty  and  the  innocence  of  her  belief  ia 
people  came  to  him,  surrounded  as  she  would  be, 
were  he  to  crook  his  finger,  with  curious  or  self- 
interested  men  drawn  to  her  by  the  knowledge 
of  her  father's  power  and  by  the  bruit  of  her 
money.  He  frowned  in  sharp  distaste.  All  of 
his  domestic  ideas  belonged  to  a  simpler,  more 
autocratic,  patriarchal  society.  The  thought  of 
a  young  girl  in  the  glare  of  publicity,  for  sale 
in  the  market,  was  abhorrent  to  him.  With  his 
experience  of  the  callousness  of  the  struggle  for 
existence,  he  understood  only  too  well  how 
keenly  the  prize  would  be  sought.  He  had  al- 
ways hated  and  feared  the  thought  of  it,  his 

[134] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

little  girl  the  quarry  for  a  pack  of  hunters.  And 
he  had  many  times  resolved,  in  the  simplicity 
of  his  sense  of  power,  that  when  the  time  came 
that  he  must  think  of  bestowing  her  for  her  own 
happiness  it  should  be  he,  not  Claire,  who  should 
weigh  the  qualifications  of  aspirants  in  the 
balance  of  his  reason  and  so  give  her  where  he 
knew  it  would  be  for  her  good.  He  knew  men; 
there  had  never  been  a  political  combination 
that  he  had  not  been  able  to  arrange;  he  had  no 
doubt  but  that  he  could  direct  this  mere  domestic 
arrangement.  No  doubt  of  his  power  and  no 
question  but  that  his  motives  were  of  a  saintly 
unselfishness  had  ever  come  to  mar  his  content. 

"What  if  the  case  should  go  against  me!" 
The  thought  flashed  on  him  with  a  sudden, 
deadly  breath  of  cold.  "And  then  what  if, 
after  taking  advantage  of  all  the  appeals  and  de- 
lays we  can  hold  them  up  for,  it  should  still  go — 
wrong.     My  little  girl !" 

But  the  fear  only  lasted  a  moment.  The 
next  he  was  laughing  at  himself.  He  had  never 
failed  in  anything  when  he  had  really  gone  in  to 
win. 

"I  know  what  juries  and  judges  are  made  of,** 
he  thought,  with  reassurance.  "What  if  they 
have  managed  to  put  in  this  stiff-necked  set! 
They  can't  last  forever.     There  are  other  courts 

[135] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

and  other  judges.  And — why,  half  the  busmess 
combinations  in  the  city  would  go  down  if  they 
disturbed  me.  We'd  see  how  long  this  grand- 
stand play  at  *  reform'  would  last  with  the 
Northwestern  Consolidated  and  the  South  Bay 
and  a  few  other  stocks  going  down!" 

He  turned  again  to  his  paper,  but  it  was  with 
a  lingering  tinge  of  solicitude  about  his  daughter. 
In  a  minute  he  threw  the  paper  down. 

"By  George!  but  I'd  almost  like  to  think  it 
was  all  settled  and  there  was  some  one  to  take 
care  of  her  if  anything  happened  to  me!  Even 
when  I've  weathered  this  squall — ^I'm  not  as 
young  as  I  was — ^you  can  never  tell  what  is 
going  to  turn  up  to-morrow  when  a  man  has 
passed  sixty.  If  it  wasn't  for  that — I'll  be — " 
Even  in  his  self-communing  he  checked  himself 
before  the  word  that  had  almost  slipped  out  got 
really  formulated.  In  spite  of  the  varied  ex- 
cellence of  the  vocabularies  of  profanity  among 
which  his  activities  were  spent.  Mayo  himself, 
perhaps  from  some  lurking  fastidiousness,  per- 
haps because  of  some  religious  scruple  inherited 
from  the  church-attending  Scotch-Irish  immi- 
grants who  were  his  forebears,  was  himself  ab- 
solutely unable  to  use  "swear  words."  Con- 
sequently he  often  found  himself  singularly  at  a 
loss  to  express  his  candid  emotions.    In  this 

[136] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

case,  after  deliberation,  he  selected  a  word  of  ap- 
proximate significance.  He  substituted,  severely, 
*' — inconvenienced — before  I'd  give  her  up  to  any 
other  man!" 

A  peaceful  melody  from  the  piano  in  the  next 
room  slid  into  his  thought.  Peaceful  it  was  and 
to  him  it  seemed  very  simple.  But  all  the  power 
of  a  great  composer's  genius  had  bent,  almost 
with  desperation  but  with  joy  in  the  very  pain 
of  effort,  to  the  task  he  had  set  himself;  to  make 
solitude  gold-shot  with  underlying,  subtle  threads 
of  melody  and  thought.  And  the  fingers  that 
brought  it  all  out,  melody  and  subdued  accom- 
paniment, unusual  modulations  that  grew  into 
consciousness  as  the  embodiment  of  feeling  long 
known  but  never  before  come  to  hght,  were 
dowered  with  an  instinct  for  beauty  and  had 
been  long  and  severely  trained. 

After  an  exquisite  final  chord  of  subdued  joy 

and  grave  triumph  there  was  a  pause  in  the 

music  and  the  murmur  of  voices  unconsciously 

and   pleasantly   attuned   to   the   chords   whose 

vibrations   seemed   still   to   linger   in    the   air. 

Mayo    read    peacefully,    the    passing    anxiety 

soothed,  a  smile  on  his  lips  that  told  that  all  was 

well  with  him  again.     It  was  as  if  gentle  fingers 

had  passed  over  his  temples  and  swept  all  care 

away. 

[1371 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

The  door  opened  and  Claire  came  into  the 
room,  followed  by  Lyman.  The  Big  Man's 
eyes  looked  upon  them  both  with  pleasure,  the 
girl  with  the  direct  and  yet  gentle  charm  that  was 
peculiarly  hers,  the  young  man  with  his  buoyant, 
upright  carriage  and  the  subdued  look  of  pleasure 
that  was  about  him.  He  had  a  charm  of  manner 
that  could  not  be  denied. 

"A  fine  fellow,'*  thought  Mayo,  musingly. 
**With  no  nonsense  about  him,  eflScient,  and 
practical;  he  doesn't  waste  time  by  tilting  at 
windmills;  he  is  ready  to  deal  with  conditions 
as  they  are.  He  is  loyal,  too;  he  proved  that  in 
the  way  he  stood  by  Garvin.  Theories  be — " 
Again  he  paused  at  the  very  threshold  of  a  for- 
bidden word  and  submitted,  pohtely,  "dis- 
regarded" before  the  tribunal  that  had  checked 
him.  "What  I  want  to  know  about  a  man  is: 
Can  he  be  loyal  to  his  friends?  Lyman  is  well 
spoken  of  everywhere,  a  fellow  of  clean  habits, 
too.  And  that's  more  important.  I  brought 
a  clean  life  to  her  mother.  I'll  see  to  it  that  no 
man  comes  near  my  little  girl  that  can't  do  as 
much." 

Lyman  was  left  with  the  Big  Man  for  an  in- 
terval, while  the  girl,  with  the  pleasant  homeh- 
ness  of  their  customs,  had  gone  to  see  about  the 
early  tea.    The  Mayos  still  kept  to  the  old- 

[138] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

fashioned  midday  Sunday  dinner  that  should 
give  the  servants  the  afternoon  and  so  make  for 
the  whole  household  some  part  of  a  day  of  rest. 
And  Claire  brought  to  the  httle  task  an  instinc- 
tive delight  in  cooking:  and  her  pleasure  in  color 
and  arrangement  found  outlet  in  the  charming 
arrangement  of  the  dainty  table.  Some  new 
dish  was  always  launched  on  Sunday  evening; 
something  that  required  a  lighter  hand  in  tossing 
it  together  than  the  cook  possessed  and  a  more 
subtle  sensitiveness  to  flavors.  It  was  the  meal 
that  Mayo  liked  best  of  the  week,  with  Just  him- 
self and  his  little  girl,  together  with  a  friend  or 
so,  and  the  table  looking  as  only  Claire  knew  how 
to  make  it. 

The  two  men  talked,  Lyman  comfortably 
smoking.  Mayo  as  comfortable  without.  The 
younger  man  was  not  unconscious  that  the  con- 
versation was  a  fairly  searching  one  that  turned 
him  and  his  standards  and  his  business  methods 
inside  out.  And  making  no  pretense  to  being 
a  simple  youth,  he  had  some  notion  whither  it 
all  tended.  His  spirits  rose  still  higher  as  he 
realized  that  Mayo  was  taking  the  trouble  to 
weigh  him  in  the  balance.  That  meant  that  he 
was  to  be  considered  seriously.  This  time  there 
was  no  difficulty  in  making  Lyman  talk. 

By  the  time  Claire  came  back  to  tell  her  father, 

10  [ 139  ] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

with  her  caressing  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  that 
the  meal  was  ready  Mayo  had  made  up  his  mind. 
He  was  used  to  quick  decisions,  to  picking  men 
iu  a  minute  if  necessary.  As  they  rose  he  gave 
Lyman  a  friendly  clap  on  the  shoulder  and  leaned 
on  him  for  support  as  he  hobbled  into  the  next 
room.  From  that  moment  Lyman  felt  that  he 
had  the  Big  Man  back  of  him,  favoring  him  in 
his  suit. 

At  Lyman's  place  Claire  had  put  the  chafing- 
dish,  with  the  chicken  and  mushrooms,  the  cream 
and  all  the  rest.  She  would  have  much  pre- 
ferred doing  the  cooking  herself.  She  hated 
the  untidy  way  he  did  things,  and  then  it  was 
much  more  trouble  to  get  the  things  together 
and  wait  on  him  and  watch  him  to  see  he  didn't 
spoil  it  all  at  the  same  time.  But  she  knew  he 
loved  to  mess  around  and  produce  his  peculiarly 
original  dish  with  triumph;  his  bachelor  apart- 
ment, with  its  admirable  valet  service,  she  knew 
in  her  womanly  Httle  heart  was  a  poor  excuse 
for  home.  So  with  the  simplicity  of  her  type, 
which  is  yet  as  subtly  wise  as  Mother  Nature, 
she  let  him  do  the  thing  he  wanted,  understand- 
ing fully  that  it  was  her  function  to  make  the 
men-children  happy. 

The  tablp  was  in  the  soft  light  of  the  candles; 
there  was  the  scent  of  flowers  and  the  fragrance 

[140] 


LYMAN  FELT  THAT  HE  HAD  THE  BIG  MAN  BACK  OF  HIM 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

of  delicate  viands  simmering,  with  the  savor  of 
cream  and  butter  and  a  trace  of  something 
pungent.  There  was  peace  and  enough  of  pleas- 
ant talk.  There  was  a  clear-eyed  girl  whose 
charming  gown  fell  into  graceful  lines,  a  girl 
deliciously  pleased  to  play  at  hostess  and  to 
radiate  her  sunny  atmosphere  of  home.  So,  al- 
though she  said  Httle  that  was  really  clever, 
both  the  Big  Man,  her  father,  and  Lyman, 
fussily  busy  with  his  stirring,  sent  their  talk 
straight  across  the  shining  table  to  her  tranquil 
eyes.  Outside  the  soft  evening  shadows  were 
more  closely  serried;  the  little  group  aroimd  the 
lighted  table  were  somehow  drawn  more  close- 
ly together.  Lyman  let  even  his  close-clenched 
determination  to  "get  on — somehow"  relax 
into  peacefulness.  And  Mayo  was  able  to  think 
with  calm  of  the  moment  when  he  must  tell 
Claire  what  impended. 


CHAPTER  Xm 

"T  MUST  hurry  to  the  oflfice;  it's  going  to  be  a 

■■■  very  full  day,"  Ward  muttered. 

Ruth  had  come  out  into  the  hall  to  see  the 
last  of  her  husband  before  he  left  for  the  day. 
Since  his  return  from  Chicago  that  daily  interval 
of  aflFectionate  lingering  had  been  shortened  and 
there  was  some  constraint  about  what  was 
left  of  it.  Yet  it  was  just  the  evening  be- 
fore that  Ken  had  hurried  home  to  her  from  the 
oflBce,  parched  for  the  sight  of  her  tenderness, 
hungry  for  her  touch.  Again  and  again  she 
had  had  to  assure  him  that  it  was  really  so — that 
she  did  love  him.  At  first  all  the  woman  in  her 
had  exulted  in  the  completeness  of  his  need  of 
her.  At  last  she  had  been  vaguely  pained  and 
affronted  by  the  uneasy  distrust  that  was  part 
of  the  feverish  longing  in  his  eyes.  She  had  to 
fight  against  the  feeling  that  there  was  some- 
thing unmanly  in  his  very  fondness.  Then  she 
laughed  at  herself  for  thinking  there  could  be 
anything  upmanly  in  Ken.  This  morning  he 
was   restive   with   suppressed   nervousness;   he 

[142] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

wanted  to  get  away;  he  shunned  meeting  her 
eyes.  All  the  sunny  peace  that  had  for  so  long 
bathed  the  land  they  lived  in  together  vanished 
as  she  had  at  last  to  confess  this  to  herself. 

But  she  clung  all  the  more  to  the  old  custom. 
She  was  passionately  determined  not  to  admit 
that  the  unwholesome  shadow  stood  between 
them.  When  he  turned  to  pick  up  the  bag  with 
his  papers  in  it  and  his  hat  he  found  she  had 
them. 

"Haven't  you  any  work  that  I  can  help  you 
with?"  She  put  his  hat  on  for  him  at  a  pur- 
posely absurd  angle;  her  hands,  as  they  dropped, 
touched  timidly  the  stubborn  lines  of  his  face, 
lingered  over  his  shoulders.  He  straightened 
his  hat  before  he  took  it  off  again:  the  effort  to 
restrain  his  irritation  was  evident. 

"No,  no,  nothing  that  Wilson  can't  put 
through,"  he  hurried  to  answer. 

"Is  he  able  to  accomplish  so  much  more  than 
he  used  to  do.?^"  Ruth's  tone  was  hurt  in  spite 
of  her  determination  not  to  have  it  so.  It  was 
such  a  short  time  since  they  two  had  talked  to- 
gether over  every  step  of  the  way.  And  now 
she  saw  that  he  preferred  to  do  without  her  help. 

Ward  understood  how  reasonable  it  was  that 
she  should  feel  hurt.     It  had  been  part  of  his 
determination  that  there  should  be  no  difference 
1 143  ] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

in  their  daily  life;  otherwise  the  situation  was 
impossible.  He  had  intended  to  act  whole- 
heartedly, turning  his  face  away  from  the 
spectacle  of  Ruth's  dishonor.  It  was  not  in 
Ward's  nature  to  be  small  or  grudging.  But  he 
had  not  reckoned  with  the  unknown  forces  in 
himself,  with  the  uncontrollable  gusts  of  heat 
and  cold  that  shook  him,  moments  of  over- 
whelming attraction  and  moments,  just  as  in- 
tense, of  shuddering  recoil.  It  seemed  he  could 
never  be  in  the  same  mind  about  his  wife  two 
minutes  in  succession.  The  result  of  all  the  tur- 
moil was  that  she  was  fast  becoming  the  center 
of  painful  disturbance  which  he  shrank  from  but 
which  he  could  not  do  without.  And  he  hated 
himself  because  he  could  not. 

This  was  one  of  the  times  when  he  had  to 
exert  all  his  will-power  not  to  roughly  brush 
away  her  hand,  hovering  again  over  his  shoulder 
as  she  found  a  speck  of  lint  on  his  coat-collar. 
The  recoil  of  all  his  flesh  from  her  was  almost 
agonizing  in  its  intensity.  He  cautioned  him- 
self that  he  must  be  all  the  more  careful  not  to 
let  her  see: 

"Why — ^yes,  there  is  something,  if  it  wouldn't 
be  too  much  trouble.  I'd  be  very  glad  to  have 
you  do  some  letters  for  me.  It  will  free  Wilson 
for  some  other  work;  the  Mayo  case  is  called  for 

[144] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

next  Tuesday — "  He  was  taking  some  papers 
out  of  the  bag.  "Several  notes  here  from  people 
who  think  they  have  information  in  the  Garvin 
matter — we  may  have  to  get  at  Mayo  over  that, 
after  all,  you  know,  and  I  can't  afford  not  to 
follow  up  every  clue  there.  It  would  be  by  far 
the  strongest  point  of  attack  if  we  could  get 
hold  of  Remsen."  Ward  was  fingering  the 
bundle  of  correspondence  like  a  hand  at  bridge 
as  he  made  this  conscientious  effort  to  include 
Ruth  in  the  work  he  had  at  heart.  "Of  course 
Remsen  would  testify  if  we  would  make  it  worth 
his  while." 

His  tone  was  almost  too  careful  in  its  courtesy. 
It  was  the  punctilious  politeness  that  she  had 
always  laughed  at  when  he  was  consciously  try- 
ing to  be  nice  to  people  he  didn't  like.  There 
was  nothing  in  it  akin  to  the  brusqueness  of  his 
tone  when  he  loved  her  most,  that  roughness 
that  seemed  almost  to  fight  against  himself  for 
fear — so  she  had  theorized  about  it  in  her  happy 
confidence — ^he  should  be  too  fond  to  be  himself. 
But  just  because  the  fear  that  haunted  her  was 
making  her  physically  dazed  and  sick  she  clung 
desperately  to  the  illusion  that  there  was  noth- 
ing wrong  between  them.  She  prolonged  the 
respite  before  he  should  leave  her  to  her  panic- 
stricken  imaginings  by  saying: 

[145] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"But — ^how  could  you  make  it  worth  his  while?'* 

*'If  we  were  not  too  scrupulous  we  might  out- 
bid Mayo — " 

Her  start  was  so  violent  that  she  seemed  al- 
most to  shrink  from  him: 

"Surely  you  wouldn't  —  surely  Mr.  Cowper- 
thwaite  wouldn't  agree  to  that!" 

A  tide  of  blood  rushed  to  Ward's  face  in  re- 
sponse to  that  name.  He  made  some  effort  to 
master  himself  before  he  spoke: 

"What's  the  necessity  of  always  dragging 
Cowperthwaite  into  the  conversation?"  he  de- 
manded, with  stiff  constraint.  "I  didn't  say 
anybody  was  considering  it.  But  you  surely 
must  appreciate  that  in  a  case  hke  this  we  are 
at  a  great  disadvantage  when  we  try  to  deal  with 
unscrupulous  people  with  overscrupulous  means. 
It  is  rather  a  pertinent  question  whether  you  are 
not  more  effective  when  you  turn  the  weapons 
of  your  adversary  against  himself.  As  it  is,  we 
stand  to  lose  our  case  because  we  are  too  morally 
lofty  to  use  the  only  methods  they  seem  to  under- 
stand. We  have  no  intention  of  being  anything 
but  our  elevated  selves.  Moreover,  we  haven't 
any  money  to  do  anything  with  if  we  wanted 
to."  He  was  openly  sneering  at  himself.  "I 
merely  noted  the  fact,  in  passing,  that  there  is 
the  other  side  to  the  question." 

[146] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

A  few  weeks  ago  she  would  have  broken  out  m 
heated  protest  against  the  callous  lightness  of 
his  tone.  But  now — she  had  grown  too  wary  to 
risk  anything.  Yet  Ken,  those  same  weeks 
earlier,  would  never  have  taken  that  half- 
wearied,  half-bitter  tone.  What  was  the  matter 
with  Ken.'*  It  couldn't  be  that  he  was  still 
angry  about  Mr.  Cowperthwaite;  he  had  seemed 
to  forgive  her  completely,  and  it  wasn't  like  Ken 
to  harbor  anything.  No,  it  must  be  that  he 
wasn't  well.  He  was  worn  out  and  discouraged; 
yes,  that  was  it.  It  had  been  such  a  long  siege. 
She  explained  all  this  to  herself,  and  then 
realized  that  that  brought  back  the  specter  of 
some  terrible  physical  collapse  coming  to  her 
husband  that  had  been  stalking  her.  Still,  she 
clung  to  his  mere  presence: 

"But  about  these  notes?"  she  asked,  putting 
out  her  hand  for  them. 

"Oh,  just  read  them  over  and  tell  me  what  you 
think  about  them.  You  might  arrange  for  in- 
terviews with  Wilson  or  me  if  you  think  any- 
thing sounds  promising.  I  haven't  time  to  go 
over  them  thoroughly.  This  chap,  I  imagine," 
pushing  one  envelope  at  her  from  the  packet, 
"may  really  have  some  information  that  we 
want." 

"Wouldn't  it  save  time  if  I  had  him  come 

[147] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

to  the  house  and  questioned  him  myself?  You 
know  you  say  that  I  can  get  information  out  of  a 
deaf-mute  that  doesn't  know  the  sign  language." 
She  laughed  a  little  mischievously,  and  her  red 
lips,  for  the  moment,  took  on  their  beguiling 
curve.  It  was  true  that,  in  the  past,  she  had 
talked  with  witnesses  for  her  husband  when  he 
was  pressed  for  time.  And  her  woman's  sub- 
tlety in  inference  had  really  gained  some  points 
that  Ken  had  been  glad  to  follow  up  even  while 
he  teased  her  about  the  unwarrantable  methods 
he  accused  her  of  using.  Now,  she  had  the  feel- 
ing that  if  Ken  and  she  could  only  get  back  into 
the  interrupted,  companionable  habit  of  working 
side  by  side  this  something  that  stood  between 
them,  more  impossible  to  oppose  because  it  was 
nothing  that,  to  her,  seemed  tangible,  might  be 
dissipated. 

Her  husband's  angry  start  brought  her  out  of 
her  dream..  His  black  brows  were  drawn  togeth- 
er; the  white  lock  fell  threateningly  over  them; 
every  line  in  his  face  told  of  unrestrained  rage: 

"You'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort!"  Little  of 
the  sound  of  his  voice  could  get  from  between 
his  clenched  teeth,  but  all  of  his  fury  did.  "Won't 
Cowperthwaite  do?  One  would  think  you'd 
had  enough!  You'll  let  that  man,  and  every 
other  man,  alone!    Or — " 

[1481 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

**Ken!'*  Ruth  called  out  sharply.  "How  dare 
you!  Are  you  insane?  I  won't  have  yoU  speak 
to  me  so!" 

The  fiery  indignation  in  her  changed,  in  the 
space  of  a  heart-beat,  all  of  the  splendid  warm 
whiteness  of  her  face  into  gray;  her  eyes  were 
menacing  in  their  hard  brightness.  Even  her 
husband,  in  his  jealous  madness,  could  see,  now 
that  her  face  was  strained  out  of  the  soft  curves 
of  the  perfect  flesh,  how  rigid  and  austere  were 
the  lines  that  the  mere  flesh  hid.  She  held  his 
eyes  indomitably,  until  she  forced  back  into  the 
man's  mind  some  reason  and  a  little  shame. 
Not  so  much  but  that,  with  a  final  flaring  up 
of  his  sullen  anger,  he  took  the  papers  from  her 
roughly,  and  threw  them  back  into  the  bag 
again : 

"After  all,  it's  better  that  you  shouldn't — 
bother  with  it,"  he  said,  curtly.  Then  he  turned 
on  his  heel  and  went  to  the  door.  But  before 
he  got  there,  a  more  civilized  instinct  had  as- 
serted itself.  He  paused  on  the  threshold  to 
say,  in  a  half -smothered  voice:  "I  suppose — I 
ought  to — ^beg  your  pardon."  In  his  haste  to 
get  away  before  she  could  have  time  to  answer 
he  left  the  door  standing  wide  open. 

Ruth  stood  for  some  moments,  helplessly 
looking  at  the  door  through  which  he  had  gone. 

1149] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

Then  she  went  to  the  door  and  closed  it  with  a 
careful  quietness.  She  felt  that  she  must  shelter 
herself  from  the  glance  of  any  chance  passer-by. 
She  had  an  unreasoning  conviction  that  there 
must  be  some  sign  of  her  shame  upon  her  face. 

With  the  sound  of  its  closing,  that  dull  thing  of 
wood  and  metal  that  yet  seemed  like  a  part  of 
her  hfe,  so  often  had  it  shut  the  careless  world 
out  with  Ken  and  herself  inside,  the  burning 
blood  poured  back  into  her  face;  the  torrent  was 
so  fiery  that  it  brought  the  painful  tears  with  it. 
But  her  pride  was  so  rebellious  that  she  fought 
with  her  tears — it  was  such  a  mere  soft,  woman- 
ish thing  to  cry  when  her  outraged  honor  cried 
out,  like  a  man's,  for  some  adequate  revenge: 

"Ken  was  afraid  to  trust  me!  He  is  still  angry 
about  Will  Cowperthwaite !  How  could  a  thing 
like  that  change  Ken  so?"  She  whispered  it 
out  loud,  still  more  than  haK  unbelieving.  "He 
didn't  wanjt  me  to  speak  to — any  man — alone!" 

She  was  not  the  woman  who  could  find  love 
in  that  mad  flaming  up  of  jealousy.  To  her  it 
was  sheer  insult.  All  that  she  recognized  in  it 
was  the  ugly  sense  of  possession  and  ugUer  lack 
of  faith. 

"What  right  has  he  to  think  of  me  that  way!" 
She  clenched  her  hands.  At  first  she  did  not 
recognize  that  she  had  bruised  them.     It  was  a 

[160] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

long  time  before  her  inexorable  sense  of  justice 
stirred  feebly  and  whispered  to  her:  "He  was 
never  this  way  before.  It  is  because  of  what 
you  did — that  night."  And,  after  a  time,  that 
thought  brought  softening.  It  was  only  then 
that  she  let  the  tears  come. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

WARD  found  it  impossible  to  face  fellow- 
passengers  in  the  street-car.  Hot  as  the 
morning  was  growing  to  be  he  walked  to  his  oflBce. 
He  had  not  gone  ten  paces  before  his  anger  had 
fallen  into  a  sort  of  sick  hopelessness.  He  was 
ashamed  and  sore  and  aghast  at  what  the  future 
seemed  to  threaten. 

His  very  desolation  forced  him  to  take  stock 
of  himself,  of  Ruth,  of  what  their  life  together 
was  becoming.  That  he  could  have  assailed 
Ruth,  "his  wifey  with  such  vile  insults !  Why, 
if  his  mind  could  conceive  them  true  for  an  in- 
stant, it  was  infamy  worse  than  any  he  had  ever 
conceived  to  even  accept  her  presence.  Of 
course  his  reason  had  never  had  part  with  his 
blind  fury — and  yet — and  yet — if  he  went  at  it 
that  way,  then,  from  the  standpoint  of  pure 
thinking — she  whom  he  had  believed  the  very 
touchstone  of  all  purity  had  once  fallen.  Even 
cold  science  stood  father  to  the  assertion  that 
a  woman  once  fallen  is  indelibly,  inevitably, 
branded  for  corruption,  her  very  fiber  tainted, 

[152] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

impregnated  with  the  siti  even  though  for  years 
foresworn.  Oh,  upright  judge,  this  science,  to 
make  of  itself  an  ally  for  jealous  husbands! 
Ward  laughed  with  wild  bitteriless  at  his  rasping 
thinking.  He  came  to  himself,  to  find  that  he 
had  been  walking  at  a  furious  rate.  His  face 
was  burning;  the  blood  was  pounding  in  his 
temples: 

"It's  too  hot  for  emotion,"  he  thought,  cynic- 
ally, and  walked  more  slowly.  Then,  with  a 
change  of  mood,  he  went  to  work  to  analyze  the 
situation  coolly.  He  soon  commented  to  him- 
self, almost  with  amusement,  on  the  fact  that  his 
"analysis  of  the  situation"  seemed  to  resolve 
itself  into  weighing  the  pros  and  tons  of  Ruth's 
future  loyalty!  Then  he  rebuked  himself  with 
a  sharp  sense  of  desecration;  but  the  next  tiio- 
ment  he  was  back  in  the  same  train  of  thought. 
"No" — this  was  his  final  verdict — "the  prob- 
ability is  against  any  further  lapse.  My  sus- 
picion of  this  morning  was  entirely  unwarrant- 
able." He  was  inclined  td  congratulate  himself 
on  the  calmness  with  which  his  mind  registered 
its  judicial  conclusion.  "There  was  a  great  deal 
to  explain  (and  perhaps  justify  to  some  extent) 
that  affair  with  Cowperthwaite.  There  was  that 
old  fondness  between  them.  And  then — the  cir- 
cumstances—  a  sudden  flaming   up  of  the   old 

[153  J 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

attraction.  It's  all  nonsense  to  say  that  a  nor- 
mal woman's  any  more  immmie  to  temptation 
than  a  man;  that's  one  thing  that  the  most  truth- 
ful woman's  never  frank  about;  it's  one  of  the 
popular  poses.  There  is  one  point  at  which  we 
are  all  vulnerable!"  Ward's  forehead  burned, 
and  he  roused  himself  confusedly  from  his  at- 
tempt to  weigh  his  wife's  case  dispassionately. 
He  realized  that  his  emotions  were  those  of  an 
assassin. 

With  an  effort  he  got  back  into  some  calmness: 
** — Of  course,  I  shall  have  to  be  careful  of  her; 
that's  only  common  sense.  It  isn't  fair  to  place 
before  any  one  a  temptation  that  may  possibly 
prove  too  strong  to  be  resisted.  One  doesn't 
leave  a  large  amount  of  money  around  where  it 
might  corrupt  even  the  most  honest  servant. 
Yes,  I  must  guard  her  in  the  future.  Ruth  is 
almost  wholly  good;  there's  only  this  slight  taint. 
I  have  been  to  blame  for  trusting  her  too  ab- 
solutely. I  must  see  that  she  doesn't  meet 
Cowperthwaite.  The  worst  of  it  is,  it  will  be 
almost  impossible,  from  the  conditions  we  live 
in,  to  avoid  their  meeting  sometimes.  And 
every  meeting  may  be  a  danger.  I  wish  we  could 
get  away  from  here.  If  I  were  not  tied  up  here 
with  these  prosecutions  I  could.  Why  can't 
Cowperthwaite  have  the  decency  to  go  awsiy? 

[154] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

He's  not  accomplishing  anything  here — none  of 
us  are,  in  fact.  Oh,  it's  inconceivable  that  it's 
Ruth  I'm  thinking  about  this  way!  No,  I'm 
sure  the  probabilities  are  against  any  further 
trouble." 

By  the  time  Ward  got  to  his  office  the  heat, 
his  fatigue,  the  numbing  effect  of  going  over  and 
over  again  the  same  round  of  thought,  had  re- 
duced him  to  an  apparent  quiet.  He  greeted 
Wilson  pleasantly,  began  on  his  mail,  started  the 
office  on  its  daily  routine.  Among  the  letters 
that  Wilson  pointed  out  was  one  from  some  man 
who  claimed  he  spoke  for  Remsen.  It  was  a 
reiteration  of  Remsen's  offer  to  testify  for  them 
if  it  was  worth  his  while.  The  sum  he  men- 
tioned was  less  than  the  one  at  first  demanded. 
Wilson  watched  his  principal  with  a  confident 
smile  on  his  face  while  the  lawyer  read  it.  At 
last  Ward  looked  up: 

"It  might  be  rather  convenient  if  we  had  the 
money;  we  could  get  our  results  quicker,'*  he 
said,  adding,  under  his  breath,  "and  get  rid  of 
these  damned  cases!" 

"But,  of  course,  you  wouldn't — "  the  boy 
burst  out. 

Ward  gave  a  quick  glance  at  him  before  he 
wrote  his  "No,"  and  flipped  the  letter  into  the 
wire  basket.     A   saddened  pity  for  the  boy's 

11  [155] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

still  unmutilated  idealism  made  his  manner 
rather  gentle: 

"That's  the  answer,"  he  said,  lightly.  "But 
don't  you  flatter  yourself  for  a  moment  that  our 
honesty's  anything  more  than  relative!  It's 
either  that  the  price  isn't  big  enough  or  that  we 
haven't  the  money  that  makes  the  answer  'No' 
instead  of  'Yes.'"  He  laughed  with  some 
heartiness,  and  Wilson,  reassured  after  his  mo- 
mentary qualm,  laughed  too  with  more  emphasis 
than  Ward's  joke  seemed  to  merit. 

When  he  had  gone  Ward  tipped  his  chair 
back  and  looked  out  of  the  big,  unshaded  window 
into  the  commonplace  business  street.  A  mem- 
ory of  himself  when  he  could  have  spoken 
with  Wilson's  unquestioning  belief  came  to  hini; 
its  date  was  not  so  far  back.  He  felt  a  sort  of 
Wonder  at  himself  for  having  spoken — and  felt — 
so  callously.  He  caught  a  passing  glimpse  of 
the  man  he  had  become,  realized  the  distance 
he  had  traveled  since  the  night  he  had  lost 
faith  in  Ruth. 

"But  after  all  it's  the  same  world,"  he  thought 
in  somfe  bewilderment.  "W^as  I  fooled  then — 
or  now?" 

There  was  no  air  stirring  at  that  moment, 
the  light  was  glaring,  the  horses'  hoofs  made  deep 
prints  in  the  asphalt,  people  moved  past  list- 

[156] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

lessly,  faces  mean  or  anxious  or  merely  vacant — 
there  seemed  to  be  not  one  strong,  buoyant, 
believing  thing  in  the  world  that  lay  under  his 
eyes.  And  in  his  heart,  whenever  he  turned 
his  gaze  inward,  underneath  that  film  of  control 
in  which  his  mind  registered  its  cooler  judgments, 
he  knew  that  the  two  Titans  that  in  every  crisis 
ruled  him  were  at  their  never-ending,  devastat- 
ing struggle.  So  it  would  be  always — always 
the  fierce  leaping  up  of  primal  impulse — that  one 
giant  that  was  his  outraged  manhood  in  death- 
grapple  with  the  unconquerable,  lusty  Titan 
that  craved  the  woman. 

"Why  is  it?"  Ward  asked,  in  dull  bewilder- 
ment. "Why  is  it,  when  the  religious  people 
teach  us  that  forgiveness  is  a  holy  thing,  that 
when  I  have  tried  to  forgive  her  I  have  let  hell 
loose  aroimd  us  both?"  The  next  instant  he  said 
grimly,  in  response  to  that  importunate  voice  that 
was  never  quite  throttled  within  him:  "I  won't 
give  her  up!     I  won't!" 


CHAPTER  XV 

T  TALF  an  hour  after  Ken  had  gone  the 
^  -■■  normal,  cheerful  things  had  resumed  their 
sway  with  Ruth.  She  had  had  her  cry  out. 
Ruth  was  too  wholesome,  life  had  treated  her 
too  gently  for  her  to  take  kindly  to  tragedy. 
With  the  sane  instinct  to  get  over  a  grief — taking 
now  its  place  in  her  imagination  as  a  small 
grief — she  felt  around  in  thought  for  the  most 
cheering  thing  she  could  do.  It  was  getting 
too  hot  to  make  going  down-town  pleasant;  if 
that  hadn't  been  so  there  was  the  unfailing  re- 
source of  a  true  woman,  the  pretty  things  in  the 
shops — and  she  hadn't  spent  all  of  her  allowance 
yet.  She  might  telephone  to  some  one  of  the 
women  she  liked  best  to  meet  her  down-town  for 
lunch — since  it  couldn't  be  Ken.  But  all  that 
required  too  much  effort,  people  were  leaving 
town,  and  then,  she  couldn't  get  her  eyes  right 
by  that  time;  they  would  see  she  had  been  crying, 
and  people  might  think  it  was  Ken's  fault. 
No,  she  didn't  really  want  to  go  down-town. 
So  she  puttered  over  her  round  of  morning 

[158] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

activities,  finding  them  uninteresting  enough, 
but  dully  soothing.  In  due  time  she  remem- 
bered the  vases  that  she  had  to  fill  with  fresh 
flowers,  and  she  went  up-stairs  to  get  her  garden- 
shears.  There  was  that  one  door  that  it  always 
hurt  her  to  pass.  It  was  open,  she  could  see  the 
screen  in  the  far  comer.  She  shut  it  gently  and 
went  on  her  way.  She  paused  in  the  kitchen 
to  give  directions  about  the  day's  cleaning,  and 
so  went  through  and  out  among  the  flowers. 

It  was  just  a  narrow  city  back  yard.  But  Ruth 
had  carried  her  village  habits  into  city  life;  she 
had  always  been  able  to  make  things  grow.  The 
high  fence  kept  off  most  of  the  early  morning 
sun;  it  was  sweet  and  cool  and  shady. 

"Not  much  but  nasturtiums  this  morning," 
she  thought,  absently,  as  she  cut,  one  after  one, 
the  vigorous,  brilliant,  pungent  blooms.  "The 
sweet-peas  are  drying  up;  and  I  did  think  I  had 
had  the  trench  dug  deep  enough  this  time.  I'll 
give  it  up  now.  You  cannot  make  sweet-peas 
grow  in  this  climate.  But  the  nasturtiums,  you 
can't  keep  them  from  growing.  They're  almost 
as  energetic  as  the  weeds;  they  choke  up  every- 
thing else  the  minute  they  get  in — how  could 
Ken  have  let  such  a  hideous  feeling  about  me 
grow  in  his  heart!     Oh,  it's  more  than  I  deserve!" 

She  cut  a  rose  off  too  close  to  its  calyx  with  the 

[1591 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

siidden  passionate  rebellion  of  the  thought. 
And  there  Were  so  few  roses  blooming  that 
morning,  too.  "Why  didn't  he  coine  to  nie  in- 
stead of  brooding?  It  isn't  like  Ken  not  to  say 
things  out.  But  I  told  him  I  couldn't  bear  to 
talk  about  it,"  she  remembered.  "Well,  how 
can  one  talk  about  it?  But  he  is  pimishing  me 
mdre  than  I  deserve.  After  all,  it  was  a  little 
thing  to  have  changed  him  so." 

She  spent  a  good  part  of  the  morning  In  the 
garden.  She  had  neglected  it,  and  there  was 
weeding  to  do.  The  ground  was  caked  hard 
around  the  roots  of  the  roses  with  the  dry  heat 
that  had  marked  the  early  summer  days.  The 
flowers  she  had  cut  placed  comfortably  in  water 
and  arranged  to  her  taste  in  the  many  quaint 
and  simple  vases  scattered  through  the  rooms, 
she  went  back  to  minister  to  the  needy  plants, 
and  dug  and  weeded,  pulled  off  dead  leaves  and 
killed  the  slugs  that  had  begun  to  infest  her  rose- 
bushes, and  watered  where  the  plants  Were  still  in 
shadow.  To  reward  her,  flower-beds  stretched 
in  drderly  brownness  and  sent  out  their  good 
damp,  earthy  smell;  the  flowers  raised  their 
bright  heads,  unchoked  by  weeds;  a  breeze  rose 
and  shook  the  fragrance  from  her  garden;  the 
air  was  full  of  the  cheerful  drowse  of  some  vagrant 
bees;  there  were  even  a  few  jewel-bright  butter- 

[160] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

flies  that,  receiving  invitations  by  their  wireless, 
found  her  flowers  out. 

So  it  seemed  but  a  Httle  space  before  her 
trouble,  that  had  seemed  so  heavy,  dropped  off 
and  was  buried  in  the  brown  earth  by  her  busy 
trowel.  The  bright  flowers  nodded  at  her, 
shaming  her  lack  of  faith  with  their  smiling 
faces;  the  steadfast  droning  of  the  bees  rebuked 
her,  crooning  that  all  storms  rise  out  of,  jand 
sink  into,  peace. 

"Things  always  adjust  themselves,"  she 
thought  at  length.  "The  best  way  i$  to  let  it 
go.  What  queer  beings  men  are,  anyway! 
You  think  you  know  your  husband  in  every 
cranny  of  his  dear,  unreasonable  man-nature. 
And  then,  all  at  once,  it's  a  dreadful  stranger 
that's  facing  you.  But  it  won't  take  long;  we'll 
get  back  again.  After  all,  I  couldn't  help  it  if 
Will  Cowperthwaite  was  a  little  silly."  She 
blushed  and  laughed  a  little;  the  whole  thing  was 
fading  from  her  mind;  it  seemed  light  in  the 
broad  daylight  and  with  the  man  lapsed  into 
the  casual  place  he  had  occupied  for  so  long. 
And  it  seemed  all  the  more  foolish  that  Ken 
could  be  making  so  much  of  it.  "If  it  wasn't 
Ken,"  she  thought  with  a  little  laugh  of  affec- 
tionate exasperation.  "And  if  I  could  ever  stay 
angry  with  him  for  five  minutes,  I'd  be  really — '* 

[161] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

But  she  was  so  tired  by  this  time  that  she 
didn't  have  energy  enough  left  to  finish  the 
threat  against  Ken's  peace.  Instead  she  straight- 
ened her  tired  back,  brushed  some  of  the  earth 
from  her  hands,  looked  at  her  finger-nails  rue- 
fully, and  prepared  to  go  back  into  the  house. 
The  sun  was  almost  at  its  height;  the  heat  was 
growing  more  oppressive.  Still,  as  she  turned 
to  go  in,  when  a  small  bank  of  clouds  hid  the 
sun  for  a  moment,  and  a  wind  rose  suddenly 
from  nowhere  and  set  the  garden  sighiug,  Ruth 
shivered  with  a  sudden  sense  of  chill. 

"If  Ken  should  ever,"  Ruth  whispered  to 
the  specter  that  had  risen  in  her  heart,  "if 
he  should  ever  really  doubt  me — if,  for  an  in- 
stant, he  could  dare  to  think  me  capable  of  real 
evil—" 

At  the  thought  a  fire  rose  in  her  so  furious 
that  the  red  of  her  smiling  lips  was  scorched  into 
white  ashes,  .her  white  face  implacable.  It  was 
the  first  time  the  thought  had  come  to  her — 
nothing  harder  than  to  convince  a  proud,  clean 
woman  who  has  never  been  doubted  that  a 
doubt  is  possible.  So  the  fire  rose  slowly. 
"If  he  should  ever  shame  me  so  insufferably, 
doubt  my  being  merely  decent!  I  wonder  if 
anything  qould  make  me  willing  to  forgive 
him!"  ... 


CHAPTER  XVI 

/^OWPERTHWAITE  was  hurrying  to  Ward's 
^-^  office  one  morning  in  the  second  week  of 
the  Mayo  trial.  In  the  long,  bleak  corridor  on 
which  the  office  rooms  opened  a  young  woman 
was  lingering,  apparently  undecided. 

She  was  looking  up  at  the  name  on  the  door 
opposite  which  she  stood  with  puzzled  indecision. 
He  halted  in  case  she  wished  to  question  him. 

"Pardon  me — can  you  tell  me  where  Mr. 
Waller's  office  is?"  She  had  raised  her  eyes  to 
his  before  he  realized  that  it  was  Miss  Mayo. 
As  their  eyes  met  he  saw  a  puzzled  light  of  rec- 
ognition come  into  her  face. 

She  had  clung  to  his  memory  as  inevitably  as 
does  the  impression  of  a  rare  and  fresh  perfume. 
It  came  to  him  now  with  a  shock  of  surprise 
that  she  was  very  beautiful.  At  their  first  meet- 
ing he  had  seen  nothing  but  the  marvelous  clear- 
ness of  her  eyes.  But  following  hard  upon  the 
involuntary  shock  of  pleasure  came  his  realiza- 
tion of  the  errand  upon  which  she  must  be 
there. 

[1631 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

"Mr.  Waller's  office  is  on  the  next  floor.  Miss 
Mayo.'*  To  himseK  lie  was  flunking:  "I  wonder 
what  words  Mayo  found  to  tell  her  in."  Some- 
how the  thought  was  so  painful  to  Cowper- 
thwaite  that  he  hurried  from  it.  "Let  me  take 
you  to  the  elevator." 

She  put  out  her  hand  with  sweet  cordiality. 
"Oh,  thank  you — I  thought  that  I  had  met  you 
somewhere.  This  is  all  very  confusing  to  me. 
I  was  to  meet  my  father  in  Mr.  Waller's  office." 

Had  he  imagined  it,  or  had  her  voice  halted 
before  the  "father".'^  Certainly  when  she  spoke 
the  word  it  was  with  proud  emphasis.  Cow- 
perthwaite  saw  that  she  was  struggling  to  re- 
member him. 

The  realization  of  what  her  father's  indict- 
ment must  mean  to  her  came  to  him,  that  in- 
dictment that  the  prosecution  had  felt  such 
exultation  in  securing.  He  walked  by  her  side 
in  stricken  silence. 

As  an  open  door  gave  them  a  glimpse  into  one 
of  the  solid,  handsome,  municipal  office  rooms, 
"Don't  you  like  the  City  Hall?"  she  asked  of 
Cowperthwaite  eagerly.  "My  father  is  very 
proud  of  it;  he  had  a  good  deal  to  do,  you  know, 
with  the  building."  She  paused  a  moment,  and 
her  face  ^^as  drenched  with  color.  But  she  re- 
covered herself  and  raised  her  head  proudly. 

[1641 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

"My  father,  you  know,  is  John  Crayke  Mayo. 
I  am  Clau-e  Mayo.  I  am  to  meet  him  to  be  with 
him  at  the — the  trial.  He  didn't  want  me  to 
come.     But,  of  course,  you  know,  I  would." 

Her  eyes  sought  his  with  a  grave  question  in 
them.  Cowperthwaite  thrilled  in  some  boyish, 
idealistic  comer  of  him  which  he  had  forgotten, 
at  the  loyal  quiver  in  her  voice. 

"He'll  be  vindicated,  of  course.  Evfet^  bne 
who  thinks  about  it  must  know  that,  certainly 
any  one  who  has  ever  known  him.  Why,  my 
father!  I  have  never  known  him  to  say  a  thing 
that  was  even  half-way  untrue.  He  began  when 
I  was  a  vtery  little  girl,  and  we  were  left  alone 
together,  to  teach  me  never  to  swerve,  by  a 
hair's-breadth  even.  He  ha^  always  weighed 
every  word  in  dealing  with  me;  he  wouldn't  let 
even  an  evasion  go.  And  so,  when  he  told  me, 
when  he  had  to,  about  the  trial,  it  seemed  a  long 
time  before  I  could  believe  it.  It  seemed  so 
monstrous.     My  father — of  all  the  world!" 

Cowperthwaite  turned  burning  red  as  if  He 
were  the  guilty  one.  With  a  constriction  oi 
his  throat  he  watched  her,  as  she  turned  from 
him  to  recover  herself  after  the  emotion  that  had 
welled  up  with  her  words.  He  muttered  some- 
thing perfunctory  about  the  situation  being 
"trying  for  her." 

[1661 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"You  don't  think  there's  any  doubt  of  the 
verdict,  do  you?"  She  turned  to  him  with  an 
endearing  confidence. 

Cowperthwaite  was  almost  stunned  by  the 
question.  Fortunately  she  must  have  taken 
his  blank  expression  for  the  answer  she  hoped 
for.  For  she  went  on,  with  a  hurried  rush  of 
words  that  made  the  man  who  heard  her  realize 
that  she  had  been  pent  up,  choked  for  want  of 
some  one  to  talk  to,  some  one  to  steady  her 
fear. 

"You  see,  I  can't  say  anything  to  father,  ex- 
cept how  absurd,  how  impossible,  it  all  is.  I 
haven't  felt  like  seeing  any  one  since  he  told  me. 
I  don't  know  why  I  am  talking  to  you.  Only, 
you  know,  if  one  is  a  woman,  there  are  times 
when  one  has  to  talk.  I  suppose  one  ought  to  be 
strong  enough  not  to  talk  at  all.  But  if  you're 
not,  and  if  you  know  you  have  got  to  be  strong 
in  the  end,  and  it's  something  that  is  going  to 
last  a  long-  time,  then  you  have  to  be  weak  at 
the  moments  that  don't  count  so  much.  That 
is,  if  it  is  being  weak  to  expect  sympathy  from 
people.  Of  course,  I  knew  as  soon  as  I  saw  you 
that  I  knew  you — only  I  can't  just  remember 
where  it  was  we  met." 

Cowperthwaite  started  as  the  moment  came 
at  last  that  he  had  known  would  come,  sooner  or 

[166] 


"l    AM    ASSOCIATE    COUNSEL    FOR   THE    PROSECUTION 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

later.  He  was  hoping  it  would  have  held  oflF  a 
moment  more. 

"It  was  last  month,"  he  began,  his  eyes  still 
on  her,  dreamily  resolved  to  lose  no  instant  of 
the  beauty  of  her  face  while  it  still  smiled  at  him 
her  surprising,  friendly  confidence.  *'I  was  talk- 
ing with  your  father  when  you  came  up  in  your 
car  to  get  him."  He  evaded  her  question  while 
he  could,  feeling  that  each  minute  had  value. 

"Last  month!  Where?  I  don't  remember." 
She  was  searching  in  her  memory. 

Suddenly  he  knew  that  he  couldn't  wait  to 
have  her  find  it  out  herself. 

They  had  reached  the  door  of  Waller's  office, 
and  he  had  to  bend  past  her  to  open  it. 

"My  name  is  Cowperthwaite,"  he  said,  turn- 
ing the  knob.  "I  was  talking  with  your  father 
about  some  points  connected  with  his  case  before 
it  came  to  court.  I  am  associate  counsel  for  the 
prosecution." 

Then  he  straightened  himself  and  stood  erect. 

He  saw  the  knowledge  creep  into  her  eyes.  He 
expected  the  involuntary  recoil  before  it  came. 
He  had  time  to  notice  a  flash  of  something  that 
was  like  the  sense  of  personal  loss  before  the  veil 
fell  over  her  eyes. 

"Thank  you  so  much,"  she  said,  with  an  in- 
clination of  her  head  that  had  an  appealing,  child- 

[167] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

Jike  dignity  in  it.    "I  will  tell  my  father  that  I 
met  you.    Good  morning." 

She  had  to  pass  him  to  enter  the  room.  But 
as  he  turned  back  down  the  corridor,  he  caught 
a  quick  glance  that  followed  after  him.  And 
hope  leaped  up  ^o  see  that,  in  spite  of  the  pain 
in  it,  there  was  also  an  involuntary  impulse 
|;pw§,rd  l^ift  of  ^  y^i^t^M!  ^fH^^r 


CHAPTER  XVII 

DUTH  WARD  started  as  she  saw  Cowper- 
■'■  ^  thwaite  across  the  crowded  room.  That 
would  be  a  good  opportunity  to  speak  to  him. 
She  gave  a  hurried  glance  around  to  see  whether 
Ken  had  come  yet,  as  she  had  made  him  promise 
he  would.  Then  she  hated  herself  for  the  in- 
stinct of  precaution.  She  wasn't  accustomed  to 
taking  precautions. 

"It  is  humiliating  to  both  of  us  to  make  con- 
cessions to  this  absurd  jealousy  that  has  grown  on 
Ken  lately,"  she  thought,  angrily.  And  yet,  iii 
the  same  moment,  she  knew  she  could  not  endure 
to  see  the  thunder-cloud  that  would  come  into 
his  face  if  he  should  see  her  talking  to  Cowper- 
thwaite.  "I'll  be  so  happy  when  he  is  himself 
again,"  she  sighed. 

A  good  many  people  turned  to  look  at  her  as 
she  made  her  way  from  one  room  to  the  farther 
side  of  the  next  one.  Ruth  was  never  more 
charming  than  that  afternoon,  with  the  blue  of 
her  eyes  like  the  strong  tone  of  the  Northern 

[169] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

pine-rimmed  seas,  and  the  paler  blue  of  her  frock 
with  its  tracery  of  delicate  embroidery. 

"Dresses  up  to  her  hair,"  said  one  woman, 
with  a  nod  to  her  neighbor. 

"No,  I  think  it's  her  eyes,"  said  her  friend. 
"But,  somehow,  although  IVe  really  got  sense 
enough  to  know  that  no  woman  could  ever  get 
just  the  effect  she  does  without  lying  awake 
nights  to  think  it  up,  she  always  gives  you  the 
effect  of  its  being  unconscious.  Just  a  sort  of 
natural  endowment." 

"Inspired  clothes  like  that  don't  happen,"  the 
first  woman  said,  with  an  envious  and  yet  friendly 
shake  of  the  head.  "And  just  look  at  that  splen- 
did red  head  of  hers,  with  the  big  black  hat  flaring 
back  everywhere  it  can  flare  and  still  hold  on,  to 
let  us  see  all  there  is  of  it  to  be  seen.  And  every 
other  woman  here  with  her  hat  down  over  her 
shoulders ! " 

Both  women  laughed,  but  it  was  with  a  sort 
of  admiring  indulgence.  The  next  moment  Ruth 
had  stopped  to  speak  to  them.  Her  smile  was  as 
warm  as  her  hair  and  as  true  as  her  eyes.  Nobody 
ever  managed  to  send  more  sunny  magnetism 
through  a  smile  than  Ruth  did.  It  was  a  living 
thing,  and  it  made  a  little  center  of  bubbling 
human  friendliness  wherever  it  flashed. 

After  a  few  words  Ruth  passed  on.     It  was 

[170] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

unfortunate  that  while  she  was  still  within  ear- 
shot she  caught  a  phrase  or  so  of  their  lower-toned 
colloquy  that  quenched  her  smile:  ** She's  the 
cleverer  of  the  two.  My  husband  says  Ward 
must  be  losing  his  nerve."  "It's  a  pity;  he 
began  so  well.    I  wonder  what — " 

Ruth  winced,  and  then  frowned.  But  in  spite 
of  her  painful  preoccupation  she  caught  the  eye 
of  the  little  bride.  For  it  was  the  necessity  of 
wishing  well  to  that  tired  and  nervous  and  flushed 
little  girl  that  had  brought  the  whole  struggling 
and  uncomfortable  crowd  together.  Nothing 
short  of  a  wedding  that  insisted  on  getting  itself 
performed  in  summer  would  have  summoned 
forth  all  the  stay-at-homes  and  as  many  of  the 
various  summer  colonies  as  were  near  enough  to 
the  city  to  attend.  Ruth  smiled  at  her,  man- 
aging kind-heartedly  to  convey  the  impression  of 
such  enthusiastic  admiration  that  the  girl  thought 
to  herself  that,  after  all,  her  veil  must  hang  well. 
At  her  smile  Ruth  caught  her  breath,  almost  with 
a  sob.  One  needs  to  be  blessedly  sure  of  one's 
unaltering  felicity,  present  or  to  come,  not  to 
find  in  another  wedding  more  of  a  strain  on  one's 
emotion  than  it  is  pleasant  to  undergo. 

At  that  moment  Ruth  did  not  have  quite  that 
blessed  assurance.  She  had  dreaded  to  come. 
But  this  was  one  of  the  solid  old  city  families 

12  [171] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

with  connections  so  ramified  that  scarcely  a  bank 
or  big  corporation  in  the  city  was  without  a  rep- 
resentative. And  the  bride's  father  was  one  of 
the  leading  influences  in  the  Civic  Club.  The  mur- 
mur that  had  just  reached  Ruth's  ears  was  not 
the  first  that  had  come  to  her.  She  had  begun  to 
fear  that  her  husband's  loss  of  prestige  was  some- 
thing more  than  a  temporary  wave  of  criticism. 
Ken  himself,  in  his  strangely  sullen  mood,  would 
do  nothing  to  conciliate.  If  her  husband's  sup- 
porters were  to  be  kept  together,  Ruth  realized 
that  she  must  do  her  share  and  his  too. 

It  wasn't  a  difficult  task  for  her,  or  even  a  par- 
ticularly unpleasant  one.  Ruth  was  a  good  sol- 
dier, and  could  have  held  together  a  forlorn  hope 
as  bravely  as  any  old  campaigner.  It  seemed  al- 
most unfortunate  that  she  had  been  born  to  such 
a  narrow  field.  She  was  full  of  friendliness,  so 
that  what  might  have  been  conceived  as  policy 
ended  as  spontaneous  liking.  The  wine  of  good 
comradeship  always  went  to  her  head  and  made 
her  a  little  tipsy,  as  she  had  often  told  Ken  after 
some  evening  when  everything  had  seemed  to 
gravitate  miraculously  toward  her.  And  Ken 
had  always  been  so  sympathetic,  so  loyally  ad- 
miring, until  now.  Well,  the  small  distraction  of 
flying  around  all  she  could,  anywhere  in  the  city 
where   people   remained    who   should   be   kept 

[172] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

friendly  to  Ken,  or  for  week-ends  at  one  of  the 
lakes,  helped  to  dull  the  voice  of  dismayed  mis- 
giving that  was  refusing  to  be  hushed  in  her 
heart. 

So  the  little  stir  of  friendliness  that  even  the 
stifling  atmosphere  of  a  summer-time  reception 
did  not  prevent  followed  in  her  wake  until  she 
met  Cowperthwaite.  But  then,  in  response  to 
his  eminently  impersonal  greeting,  she  felt  her 
face  grow  red.  It  was  the  first  time  she  had  seen 
him  since  that  morning.  Ruth  told  herself  that 
it  wasn't  wonderful  that  she  felt  embarrassed  at 
having  to  remember  such  a  scene  as  that. 

The  next  moment  she  had  forgotten  her  mo- 
mentary discomfiture  because  she  chose  to  for- 
get it. 

"Will,"  she  said,  abruptly,  the  old  name  com- 
ing unconsciously  to  her  lips,  "I  want  to  ask  you 
something." 

"I  can  hardly  believe  there  is  any  wisdom  ex- 
istent that  you  don't  already  possess." 

It  was  Will  Cowperthwaite's  old  cleverly  in- 
viting smile,  and  she  felt  suddenly  at  home  and 
comfortable.  Still,  she  chose  to  treat  the  subject 
with  seriousness: 

"It's  about  Ken,"  she  said. 

There  was  the  slightest  tension  of  expression 
on  the  man's  face. 

[178] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

"Is  Ken  coming  here  to-day?"  he  asked. 

She  nodded  eagerly. 

"Yes,  I  told  him  he  must.  Of  course  he  re- 
belled flatly,  though  I  told  him  how  necessary  it 
was  to  keep  in  touch  with  people." 

"As  you  may  infer,  I  had  some  sense  of  obliga- 
tion myself."  Cowperthwaite  smiled  ruefully  as 
he  looked  at  the  uncomfortable  crowd. 

"I  thought  maybe  you  might  come  from  court 
together.  I  told  Ken  they  would  forgive  him; 
one  of  his  excuses  was  that  he  hadn't  time  to  go 
home  to  dress." 

"I  haven't  seen  very  much  of  Ken  lately  out- 
side of  court."  Cowperthwaite's  eyes  were  very 
steadily  on  her  as  he  spoke.  There  could  have 
been  nothing  more  natural  than  the  casualness  of 
his  tone.  Yet,  although  she  was  longing  to  ask: 
"What's  the  matter?  Surely  you're  friends 
again?"  she  could  not  have  approached  the  sub- 
ject even  to  satisfy  a  stronger  craving  than  she 
felt.   But  that  other  matter  she  must  speak  about : 

"Something  came  up  the  other  day  that 
alarmed  me  a  little." 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  encouraging 
than  the  silence  that  awaited  what  she  had  to 
say. 

"Do  you  think  Ken  is  in  any  danger?"  she 
asked,  abruptly. 

[1741 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

"Danger!    Of  what?    Losing  his  case?" 

"No,  no;  I  mean  of  personal  violence.  From 
any  of  Mayo's  faction." 

He  laughed  at  her  fears.  •    ' 

"Oh  no,  you  exaggerate  the  conditions.  We 
think,  it  is  true,  that  Mayo  has  been  as  lawless 
as  any  old  freebooter.  But  that  is  rather  be- 
cause he  has  owned  the  law;  he  didn't  have  to 
break  it.  That's  all  in  a  public  capacity.  In 
other  respects,  I  assure  you.  Mayo  is  a  mighty 
pleasant  person.  I  more  than  haH  like  him. 
It  isn't  the  man  we're  fighting.  It's  the  system 
that  made  him.  I  beUeve  that  half  the  men  in 
our  civic  life  don't  know  right  from  wrong." 

"I  didn't  mean  that.  Of  course  I  knew  Mr. 
Mayo  was  above  any  personal  violence.  But — 
you  don't  know  what  awful  letters  Ken  has  been 
getting!"  Her  lips  were  white  at  the  thought. 
"Just  yesterday  he  received  one — " 

"Anonymous,  of  course."  Cowperth waiters 
smile  was  reassuring. 

"Signed  *  Honest  Citizen,'  or  something  like 
that.  But  this  one  is  the  fourth  he  has  received 
in  the  same  handwriting.  And  it  seems  to  me 
that  they  are  beginning  to  make  some  impres- 
sion on  Ken.  He  always  used  to  laugh  at  them. 
But  now — " 

"You  thought  he  was  losing  his  nerve  a  httle?" 

[175] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

asked  Cowperthwaite.  While  his  tone  was  light, 
the  reiteration  of  the  phrase  she  had  heard  from 
other  lips  a  few  moments  before,  and  something 
in  the  very  absence  of  expression  in  his  face, 
impressed  her  painfully. 

"Of  course  he  isn't  *  losing  his  nerve,"*  she 
repUed,  with  spirit,  her  own  head  high.  "Al- 
though I  have  been  trying,  ever  since  the  letters 
began  to  come,  to  make  him  take  some  precau- 
tions, he  has  always  refused.  But — I  suppose  it 
must  be  just  because  I  have  kept  at  him  so  long 
— he —  This  morning  I  saw  him  load  a  pistol 
and  put  it  in  his  pocket.  Of  course  that  made 
me  anxious;  I  wondered  if  you  had  heard  any- 
thing. Do  you  feel  there  is  any  danger?" 
Cowperthwaite  hastened  to  calm  her: 
"Not  the  slightest,  I  assure  you.  Any  prose- 
cution like  this,  that  stirs  up  the  vicious  sedi- 
ment in  a  city,  offends  a  good  many  gentlemen 
who  have  found  a  fat  Hving  in  ignoring  the  laws. 
They  naturally  don't  look  with  favor  on  anything 
that  threatens  to  disturb  them.  Letter-writing 
is  invariably  an  accomplishment  of  gentlemen  of 
their  sort.  They  have  a  notion  that  people  are 
to  be  bullied  into  the  course  of  action  they  them- 
selves find  more  convenient.  Every  one  en- 
gaged in  any  reform  movement  gets  quantities 
of  mail  of  that  nature." 

[176] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

"Do  you?"  she  asked,  quickly. 

"Hardly  miss  a  mail,"  he  assured  her,  cheer- 
fully. "Got  a  beauty  this  morning.  It  artis- 
tically suggested  dynamite  for  the  whole  court- 
room. I  suppose  they  would  choose  a  time  when 
their  champions  were  not  present.  So,  you  see, 
there  isn't  any  reason  to  worry." 

But  the  means  he  had  taken  to  reassure  her 
only  seemed  to  trouble  her  more. 

"You  think,  then,  there  is  nothing  to  be 
nervous  about?"  she  asked,  slowly,  something 
reluctant  in  her  voice.  "But  it  isn't  like  Ken — " 
She  did  not  finish  her  sentence,  so  he  answered 
the  direct  question  before  it. 

"Not  a  thing.  I  am  sure  he  needn't  be 
nervous — "  Her  face  changed  so  quickly  he 
knew  he  had  said  the  wrong  thing. 

"Oh,  it  wasn't  because  of  Ken,"  she  said. 
"I  have  never  been  able  to  make  him  ordinarily 
cautious.  Ken  is  absolutely  fearless,  reckless 
even;  you  must  know  that.  I  was  just  panicky 
myself." 

"Oh,  certainly;  I  understand,"  he  hurried  to 
say.     But  to  himself  he  commented: 

"Still,  he  thought  enough  of  that  silly  business 
to  take  arms  with  him.  What's  the  matter  with 
Ward?  I  wonder  if  Ken  is  losing  his  grip. 
She's   afraid   of   it.     That's   what   this   means. 

[177] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

She  doesn't  know  anything  about  fear  for  her- 
self. I  haven't  been  saiHng  and  swimming  and 
riding  our  mountain  trails  with  her  without 
finding  that  out.  Whew! — but  she'd  hate  a 
coward !" 

At  this  stage  in  his  thought  he  realized  that 
Mrs.  Ward  was  speaking  hurriedly. 

"Good-by,"  she  said,  her  breath  fluttering. 
"I  see  Ken.  I  must  meet  him.  He'll  never 
know  how  to  get  around  without  me.  Did  you 
ever  see  anything  more  helpless.''"  She  tried 
to  laugh,  but  the  laugh  had  an  uncertain  sound. 
And  she  was  edging  away. 

Cowperthwaite  followed  her  eyes.  Ward  had 
seen  them.  His  face,  as  he  tried  to  smile  in 
passing  an  acquaintance,  was  twisted  torture; 
the  white  lock,  for  all  of  his  evident  effort  to 
bring  smoothness  into  his  rough  hair,  was 
threateningly  alert.  He  was  summoning  his 
wife  with  the  desperate  command  of  jealous 
possession. 

Then  his  eyes  met  Cowperthwaite's.  Ward 
glanced  from  the  man  to  his  wife.  His  face 
flushed  a  furious  red,  and  he  made,  involuntarily, 
a  threatening  lunge  toward  Cowperthwaite. 
Ruth  did  not  see  it;  some  one  had  stopped  to 
speak  to  her.  But  several  of  the  bystanders 
did,  and  looked  at  the  two  men  curiously. 

[178] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

Cowperthwaite,  too,  flushed,  but  slightly. 
He  made  no  effort  to  advance  toward  Ward  or 
to  greet  him  conventionally.  Ward's  manner 
was  unmistakable.  At  last  Cowperthwaite  knew 
that  Ken  had  not  believed  his  account  of  the 
all-night  motor- trip.  He  beheved  that  his  friend 
had  stolen  his  wife.  And,  for  the  moment, 
Cowperthwaite  hated  Ward  with  his  whole  heart. 

The  hatred  was  too  great  for  him  to  hide  it. 
He  stood  still,  his  head  very  high,  his  eyes  on  the 
other  man  with  the  inevitable  challenge  in  them. 
Under  cover  of  conversation  with  this  person 
or  with  that,  the  widening  circle  of  those  who  had 
observed  the  incident  took  more  or  less  covert 
note.  Ruth's  attention  was  attracted  by  some 
tension  in  the  atmosphere,  and  she  looked  fear- 
fully up  into  Ken's  face. 

But  it  was  Cowperthwaite  now  who  was  de- 
fying Ken's  eyes.  In  that  moment  of  suspense 
Ward's  threat  had  become  impotent,  sullen, 
hopeless.  With  a  gesture  of  helpless  anger,  he 
lowered  his  eyes  and  turned  away.  He  seemed 
to  have  shrunk  in  stature.  There  was  a  sug- 
gestion of  disintegrating  fiber  in  the  slouch  of 
his  heavy  shoulders. 

Ruth  turned  very  white.  Ignorant  as  she  was 
of  the  full  meaning  of  the  encounter,  she  felt 
the  full  force  of  more  than  personal  shame  for 

[179] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

Ken.  It  was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  seen 
Ken's  eyes  quail  before  those  of  another  man. 
There  was  nothing  with  her  of  what  might  have 
arisen  in  another  woman,  the  protecting  mother- 
sense  that  would  have  flowed  forth  to  cover  and 
comfort  the  man's  defeat.  The  sense  of  dis- 
honor was  too  sharp  a  wound  to  allow  of  any 
other  sensation. 

But  her  pride  arose  to  take  the  place  of  tender- 
ness. She  forced  a  smile  that  was  only  a  little 
more  brilliant  than  it  would  have  been  had  it 
been  natural.  With  an  arrogant  assumption 
that  all  was  well,  she  threw  a  last  jesting  remark 
to  Cowperthwaite  over  her  shoulder,  shock  her 
husband's  arm  playfully,  threw  out,  at  a  venture, 
"Oh,  you  needn't  glare  at  Mr.  Cowperthwaite;  he 
said  he  did  the  best  he  could  with  the  data  you 
gave  him!" — ^saw,  without  looking,  that  her  shot 
had  told  and  that  people  were  wondering  what 
she  alluded  to;  and  so,  stopping  to  throw  the  glow 
of  her  persoilahty  over  every  person  in  the  crowd 
whom  it  would  be  prudent  to  impress  favorably, 
made  an  exit  for  them  both. 

Her  husband  was  absolutely  unobservant  of 
her  generalship.  He  had  not  seen  the  necessity 
for  it.  Under  cover  of  the  heavy  inexpressive- 
ness  that  now  masked  his  face,  he  was  thinking, 
doggedly,  fiercely: 

[180] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

"I  must  get  her  away,  away  from  this  place, 
away  from  Cowperthwaite !  Somehow,  as  soon 
as  I  can  manage  it,  I  must  get  her  away!'* 

Cowperthwaite  was  left,  still  tingling  with 
anger  over  the  affront  of  Ward's  suspicion. 
Finally  he  got  back  some  of  his  cool  control  and 
made  his  way  into  the  next  room,  got  an  ice — 
anything  to  move  around. 

After  a  time,  his  temperate  philosophy  began 
to  assert  itself: 

"Queer  thing,"  he  thought,  "how  hatred 
flares  up,  when  you  had  got  over  expecting  that 
thing  of  yourself  by  some  years,  especially  when 
you've  outlived  the  craze  for  the  particular 
woman  by  as  many.  And,  now  that  I  think  of 
it,  I  suppose  it  isn't  extraordinary  that  Ken 
should  have  suspected  me — I  realized  that  it 
didn't  look  very  pleasant  at  the  time,  although 
Ruth  evidently  had  no  comprehension — but,  I 
swear.  Ken  ought  to  have  known  me  better. 
Oh,  well,  instinct's  strong — two  stags  fighting 
over  a  doe — there's  not  much  to  choose  between 
us,  man  or  'lower'  animal.  Only,  I  suppose 
when  you  have  taken  pains  to  lead  a  fairly  decent 
life,  with  a  principle  or  so  among  your  outfit 
that  you  haven't  broken,  you  may  have  some 
right  to  feel  irritated  to  find  your  best  friend 
thinks  you  capable  of  a  particularly — we'll  put 

[181] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

it — unethical  act.  But  if  he  thought  that  of 
me,  why  did  he  let  me  go,  why  didn't  he  try  to 
kill  me  on  the  spot?  And  why  did  he  let  me  face 
him  down  just  now?  Hanged  if  I  understand 
Ken.  He  used  to  have  sand  enough.  Queer,  that 
scare  of  his  that  Ruth  told  me  about — I  wonder 
if  he  really  is  weakening.  By  Jove,  this  explains 
lots  of  things,  the  way  Ken  has  tried  to  shove  me 
out  of  this  prosecution — it  couldn't  have  been 
very  pleasant  for  him  to  have  a  man  at  his  side 
every  day  that  he  thought  the  worst  kind  of  a 
cad.  But  what  did  he  mean  by  saying  his 
*  hands  were  tied'?" 

The  contempt  that  had  come  into  Cowper- 
thwaite's  attitude  toward  his  friend  made  him 
more  uncomfortable  than  anything  else  had  done. 
One  can  fight  a  man  with  a  certain  amount  of 
grim  joy.  But  to  have  to  look  aside  from  the 
idea  of  a  friend  you  had  given  your  whole  trust 
to!  Cowperthwaite  tried  to  forget  it  all,  put 
it  away  from  him.  He  went  about  the  breath- 
less, crowded  rooms  a  little,  spoke  to  an  ac- 
quaintance here  and  there.  In  the  midst  of  his 
belated  social  activity  a  sudden  misgiving  came 
to  him. 

"I  wonder,"  he  thought,  stopping  short, 
"how  much  Ward  is  making  his  wife  pay  for  this 
confounded"  mess.     Here   I've   been   supposing 

[182] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

all  this  time  that,  after  a  proper  husbandly  out- 
break over  that  shocking  bad  kiss  of  mine, 
everything  was  all  right  between  them.  And 
here.  Heaven  knows  what  he's  been  making  her 
suffer.  Oh — this  will  never  do.  There  was  a 
look  in  her  eyes  just  now  that  was  a  little  like  Miss 
Mayo's.  I'll  have  to  make  Ward  understand, 
somehow,  without  losing  any  more  time.  For 
her  sake,  not  for  his,  I  swear.  Though  just  how 
I'm  going  to  say  it  I'm  sure  I  can't  imagine.  A 
nice,  pleasant  subject  of  conversation  it  will  be 
to  open  with  Ward.  He'll  probably  throw  me 
out  of  the  door  before  I  get  two  words  out — 
pretty  hard  on  the  poor  little  woman,  too, 
to  have  to  take  her  name  in  vain  that  way. 
Well,  I'll  have  to  write  it.  I  can  see  the  letter! 
— *Dear  Ward:  You  are  entirely  wrong.  I  can 
vouch  for  it  that  your  wife  is  a  pure  woman!' — 
Good  Lord,  but  I  have  got  myself  into  a  joyous 
situation,  and  all  for  a  moment's  dubious  distrac- 
tion— chilly,  too.  And  the  worst  of  it  is,  I  may  be 
dead  wrong  about  the  whole  thing;  it  may  be 
something  else  that's  making  Ward  rage  this  way. 
Then  I  would  be  in  a  nice  position  if  I  opened  the 
subject.  The  worst  of  it  is,  all  this  is  going  to 
affect  the  cases;  it  has  affected  them.  We're  not 
doing  teamwork  at  all.  And  Mayo's  so  clever 
you  can't  afford  to  neglect  a  point.'* 

[183] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

The  name  was  enough;  his  thoughts  left  Ward 
and  his  wife  and  sUd  down  a  path  they  had  often 
taken  of  late. 

"That  poor  little  girl  of  Mayo's!  How  she 
did  hold  her  head  up  when  she  said — *'  In  the 
midst  of  the  glow  that  the  recollection  brought 
him  Cowperthwaite  walked  dazedly  out  of  the 
house  and  down  the  steps,  having  forgotten,  after 
all,  to  do  his  social  duty  and  congratulate  the 
married  pair.  He  woke  from  his  dream  when  he 
was  half-way  down  the  block,  but  he  decided 
then  that  he  would  not  go  back.  He  found 
that  he  had  a  sort  of  resentment  toward  the 
two  harmless  young  people. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

npHE  Mayo  trial  had  dragged  along  two 
^  weeks.  Holding  had  not  yet  been  called 
to  the  stand.  But  Ward  had  succeeded  in  mak- 
ing very  little  of  the  other  witnesses.  Even  the 
casual  spectator,  who  had  come  with  the  pre- 
conceived notion  that  in  Kenneth  Ward's  han- 
dling of  the  case  he  was  to  see  something  masterly, 
had  begun  to  exchange  with  others  occasional 
glances  of  disappointment  and  wonder.  It  was 
evident  that  the  attorney  often  missed  a  point 
that  might  have  scored  for  the  prosecution.  Just 
why  that  was  the  onlooker  would  have  found  it 
hard  to  state.  But  more  than  one  of  the  defense's 
witnesses  had  perceived  that  if  he  adopted  a  cer- 
tain attitude  of  belligerency,  and  confronted  the 
prosecuting  attorney  with  a  brave  show  of  defi- 
ance, a  queer  wavering  would  come  into  Ward's 
eyes.  As  for  Ward,  bolster  up  his  self-esteem  as 
he  might,  he  could  never  overcome  the  misgiving 
that  he  had  shown  the  white  feather  toward  some 
shallow  bully  on  the  stand.  The  knowledge  that 
he  had  violated  the  elemental  law  of  his  man- 

[185] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

hood  rose  up  before  him  and  made  a  craven  of 
him. 

Mayo,  of  course,  was  out  on  bail.  He  could 
have  had  the  large  amount  demanded  furnished 
him  by  friends  ten  times  over.  But  he  chose  a 
bonding  company  instead.  Each  day  when  he 
appeared  his  "little  girl"  was  at  his  side.  In 
spite  of  the  fact  that  the  court-room  had  ceased 
to  be  the  chamber  of  horrors  it  had  been  on  the 
day  when  Cowperthwaite  had  guided  her  to  the 
meeting  with  her  father,  Claire  had  never  quite 
lost  her  shriaking  from  it.  Yet  she  never  thought 
of  staying  away. 

It  was  strange  how  Cowperthwaite's  knowledge 
of  the  girl  grew,  by  leaps  and  bounds,  during 
those  daj^s  when  he  never  exchanged  one  word 
of  audible  speech  with  her.  He  learned  much 
from  her  mere  calm,  that  quietude  that  was 
neither  tense  nor  empty  of  emotion,  but  was 
rather  the  .perfect  'equipoise  that  was  the  ex- 
pression of  some  hidden  harmony.  He  learned 
much  from  her  eyes,  whose  perfect  clearness  was 
never  shallow.  Often  when  Cowperthwaite, 
after  some  bit  of  legal  sparring,  rose  to  speak, 
he  met  her  eyes,  grave,  flinching  somewhat  as  his 
glance  joined  hers,  but  finally  steadfast.  He 
learned  rpiore  from  the  involuntary  gesture, 
like  the  hovering  of  warm,  outstretched  wings, 
11861 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

with  which  her  arm  lingered  a  moment  over  her 
father  when  some  bit  of  evidence  seemed  to  press 
him  hard,  or  by  her  flush  of  sympathy  at  the  con- 
fusion of  some  harried  witness,  a  flush  so  deep 
that  it  almost  forced  the  tears. 

Her  presence  was  an  unrecognized  influence 
when  Cowperthwaite  finally  drafted  his  letter  to 
Ward,  a  manly  letter  that  it  seemed  the  husband 
would  have  to  be  insanely  obdurate  not  to  be  con- 
vinced by.  Her  calm  was  a  potent  factor  iu  the 
self-control  with  which  Cowperthwaite  met  the 
almost  unendurable  difficulties  of  his  position. 
No  answer  came  to  his  letter.  There  was  no 
indication  in  Ward's  manner  that  he  was  in- 
fluenced by  it  m  the  slightest.  Cowperthwaite 
was  completely  nonplussed  by  the  situation. 
Under  a  surface  appearance  of  amity  there  were 
constantly  recurring  evidences  of  underlying 
antagonism.  Whenever  he  could,  Ward  balked 
his  associate's  efforts  to  take  an  active  part  in 
the  prosecution.  Papers  were  withheld  from 
him;  he  was  left  in  ignorance  of  the  policy  to  be 
followed;  Ward  constantly  overrode,  with  con- 
temptuous harshness,  every  suggestion  that 
Cowperthwaite  might  make  in  court.  Short 
of  a  bitter  public  struggle,  there  seemed  to  be 
no  redress  left  for  Cowperthwaite.  And,  having 
the  good  of  their  common  cause  at  heart  as  he 

13  11871 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

did,  this  method  was  out  of  the  question.  As  it 
was,  rumors  that  their  dissension  was  observed 
came  frequently  to  Cowperthwaite's  ears.  He 
could  see  the  influence  of  the  knowledge  of  this 
friction  in  the  attitude  of  the  other  side,  their 
growing  confidence,  their  scarcely  veiled  allusions. 
He  knew  that  the  only  hope  of  restoring  their  own 
failing  prestige  was  in  covering  up  the  feud  as  far 
as  possible.  Nothing  could  be  worse  for  them  than 
an  undignified  brawl  in  the  open  court.  And  why 
should  there  be  a  feud,  when  Ward  could  surely 
not  fail  to  believe  his  letter.?*  Ward  might  be  jus- 
tified in  feeling  some  passing  indignation  at  his 
friend's  frivolous  impulse;  but  this  deep-seated 
rancor  seemed  Httle  short  of  insanity.  Cowper- 
thwaite  fumed  in  realizing  that  his  hands,  for 
the  moment,  were  tied.  With  his  deep  sense  of 
responsibility  toward  the  men  who  had  placed 
him  where  he  was,  this  conclusion  was  a  bitter 
one. 

With  all  his  efforts  to  keep  the  peace,  at  the 
beginning  of  the  third  week  of  the  trial  there  was 
a  passage-at-arms  between  Ward  and  Cowper- 
thwaite  that  was  too  vehement  to  escape  notice. 
The  difficulty  arose  over  the  cross-examination 
of  a  witness.  There  was  so  much  i>ersonal 
animosity  in  Ward's  attack  that  all  over  the 
court-room   eyebrows   were   raised   in   surprise, 

[188] 


'     AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

The  court  ruled  for  Cowperthwaite.  Ward  sub- 
sided with  the  worst  grace  in  the  world.  His 
anger  smoldered  down  into  a  dark  and  bitter 
humor.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  day  he  found 
himself  alone  as  the  left  he  court-room.  He  had 
been  losing  ground  rapidly  in  public  opinion. 
Something  of  this  had  leaked  through  the  press, 
until  there  came  to  be  a  general  impression 
throughout  the  city  that  something  was  the 
matter  with  Kenneth  Ward.  People  were  be- 
ginning to  leave  him  alone. 

That  evening,  however,  he  had  promised  to 
dine  with  a  man.  He  vaguely  wondered  why  he 
had  done  so;  he  hardly  knew  the  fellow.  The 
club  chosen  was  a  rather  obscure  one.  The  man 
had  said  he  "wanted  to  have  a  chance  to  talk 
quietly."  Ward  didn't  know  it,  but  this  was  one 
of  Mayo's  allies  and  it  was  Mayo  who  wanted  to 
talk.  The  Big  Man  had  decided  that  the  time  had 
come  to  "put  it  up  to"  the  prosecuting  attorney. 
So  it  happened  that  there  was  no  one  in  the 
room  with  the  two  men  until  Mayo  appeared, 
just  after  the  soup. 

Ward  jumped  up  indignantly.  He  knew  per- 
fectly well  the  sinister  light  it  would  put  him  in 
to  have  this  encounter  with  the  Big  Man  known. 
He  protested  that  he  must  leave,  but  the  other 
man  had  invited  Mayo  to  join  them,  and  Mayo, 

[189] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

with  his  authoritative  eyes  quietly  on  Ward,  re- 
quested that  he  would  remain  for  a  few  minutes. 
Ward  wavered.  A  strange  spiritlessness  had 
settled  over  him,  and  he  subsided  into  his  chair 
with  a  shrug  of  his  heavy  shoulders.  They  talked 
about  indifferent  topics.  Very  soon  the  host 
slipped  out  with  some  excuse.  The  men  were 
established  companionably  over  a  table,  Mayo 
with  a  brandy-and-soda  and  Ward  with  a  glass  of 
seltzer.  When  the  moments  passed  and  the  host 
did  not  return.  Ward  recognized  that  he  was 
trapped.  He  glanced  uneasily  out  into  the  hall, 
and  stirred  in  tentative  preparation  for  departure. 
Then,  meeting  Mayo's  eyes,  he  smiled  in  half- 
cynical  recognition  of  the  ruse,  and  delayed.  The 
room  was  a  small,  inner  one  used  for  cards.  There 
was  every  probability,  judging  from  the  size  of 
the  bill  that  had  found  its  way  to  the  attendant, 
of  its  remaining  untenanted,  save  by  the  two. 
Ward  had  not  seen  the  transaction,  but  he  would 
have  had  no  difficulty  in  imagining  it. 

Mayo  wasted  no  time: 

"See  here.  Ward,"  he  said,  facing  the  lawyer 
steadily,  "you  haven't  made  much  of  a  case 
against  me,  have  you?" 

Ward  replied,  with  quite  enough  show  of  con- 
fidence: 

"Oh,  we  haven't  begun  to  get  warm  yet.    I 

[190] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

am  calling  the  unimportant  witnesses  first.  We 
have  others  in  reserve." 

"Holding,  for  example?"  Mayo's  eyes  were 
strongly  on  Ward's. 

"Yes,  Holding  among  others." 

Mayo  changed  his  tactics.  Indirectness  was 
always  distasteful  to  him.  Had  he  been  a  high- 
wayman instead  of  a  city  boss,  he  would  have 
always  preferred  to  encounter  his  victims  face 
to  face,  with  quite  as  much  risk  for  himself  as  for 
them. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you.  Ward?"  he  at- 
tacked him. 

Ward  started;  but  faced  the  man  after  a  mo- 
ment's effort. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  demanded,  indig- 
nantly.    "What's  wrong  with  me?" 

"This,  for  one  thing."  Mayo's  eyes  held 
Ward's,  raised  in  angry  query.  Ward's  eyes 
wavered  and  fell.  "That's  the  answer,"  said 
Mayo,  quietly. 

Ward  colored  violently  as  he  rose  from  the 
table. 

"Fortunately,"  he  said,  "court  procedure  is 
not  made  up  of  such  childish  tricks." 

"You're  right.  It  wasn't  as  clever  as  the  bit 
of  play  you  made  some  time  back  in  Garvin's 
case.    Oh,  sit  down,  Mr.  Ward,  sit  down,"  said 

[191] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

Mayo,  with  entire  good-nature.  *'I  have  more 
mature  methods  at  hand,  really  I  have."  Either 
because  of  the  significance  in  his  tone,  or  because 
of  the  compelling  force  in  his  eyes,  Ward  obeyed, 
hating  himself  all  the  while  for  doing  it. 

"Now,  see  here,  Mr.  Ward!"  Mayo  dropped 
his  light  tone  and  spoke  slowly  and  with  em- 
phasis. It  was  evident  he  was  glad  to  feel  the 
solid  ground  under  his  feet.  "I  have  no  desire 
to  pry  into  your  private  affairs.  But  it's  my  job 
to  observe  men,  you  know.  Of  course,  I've  been 
watching  you  pretty  constantly  since  the  begin- 
ning of  this  pernicious  activity  of  yours.  I  have 
satisfied  myself  that  whereas  Cowperthwaite  and 
you  were  mighty  good  friends  at  the  beginning 
of  this  high-brow  campaign  of  yours,  now  you're 
very  much  the  other  way.  I'm  not  inquiring 
what  has  happened  to  bring  about  this  state  of 
affairs,  or  what  has  made  you,  so  to  speak,  lose 
your  nerve.  It's  the  mere  fact  that  interests  me, 
and  it  interests  me  only  in  so  far  as  it  gives  a 
more  favorable  aspect  to  my  case." 

By  this  time  Ward  had  rallied  himself. 

"It's  hard  to  see  the  connection,"  he  said, 
with  a  great  appearance  of  ease. 

"No.''"  Mayo  made  no  attempt  to  press  the 
point.  "I  know  perfectly  well,"  he  went  on, 
"that  I'm  not  in  the  slightest  danger  of  the  peni-^ 

[192] 


iUU  WOl««K«.^AfC 


OH,    SIT    DOWN,    MR.    WARD,    SIT    DOWN,       SAID   MAYO 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

tentiary.  This  one  specially  picked  judge  and 
jury  that  the  Civic  Club  put  in  during  its  spasm 
of  reform  isn't  the  only  court  in  the  State  or  in 
the  country,  not  by  a  jugful.  And  if  it  were, 
the  North-Westem  and  half  a  dozen  other  con- 
cerns I  am  mixed  up  with  are  not  going  to  let 
me  go  down.  But  I  want  to  get  this  thing  over 
without  the  prolonged  farce  of  appeals  and  new 
trials  and  all  that.  For  one  thing,  it  distresses 
my  little  girl — I  don't  mind  telling  you  that." 

It  was  curious  how  the  bit  of  human  appeal 
diffused  around  the  two  men  a  different  atmos- 
phere. Ward,  although  it  did  not  require  in- 
sight to  guess  what  Mayo's  ultimate  proposition 
was  going  to  be,  felt  his  stiffened  antagonism 
relax  with  the  bit  of  domestic  feeling.  The  man 
seemed  less  dangerous,  somehow,  with  a  daughter. 
Ward  consented  to  listen,  even  though,  after  the 
first  throb  of  sympathetic  comprehension  of 
Mayo's  desire  to  shield  the  tender  woman,  the 
idea,  as  usual,  brought  back  Ruth,  with  the  ac- 
companying stab  of  pain. 

"Now,  whatever  may  be  the  reason,  I  have 
discovered  two  facts  that  affect  my  case.  One 
is:  you  come  pretty  near  to  hating  Cowper- 
thwaite.  The  other  is:  you're  at  discord  with 
pretty  much  everything  in  the  place.  Something 
has  made  you  sore,  I  take  it.    Oh,  don't  let  us 

[193] 


AS    CAESAR'S  WIFE 

take  up  the  time  now  with  denials.  I  may  be 
dead  wrong,  I'm  free  to  admit  it.  But  just  hear 
me  through  and  then  you  can  reply.  To  put 
things  in  a  businesslike  light — and,  after  all,  all 
life's  some  kind  of  business — you  have  it  in  your 
power  to  do  me  a  favor.  And  that  favor  would 
be  worth  paying  for,  and  paying  for  well." 

Ward  half  rose  again,  hot  words  on  his  lips. 
Mayo  again  motioned  him  to  be  seated.  Ward 
hesitated,  struggled  against  the  force  that  seemed 
to  benumb  him.  He  glanced  apprehensively 
around ;  nobody  had  come  into  the  room,  nobody 
peered  at  them  from  the  corridors.  But,  if  any 
one  should  come,  it  would  not  do  to  be  seen  there 
with  Mayo.  Finally,  still  with  a  wavering  inde- 
cision, he  sat  down. 

"You'd  like  mighty  well  to  get  ahead  of 
Cowperthwaite,  I  take  it.  Well,  you've  got  the 
chance.  Cowperthwaite  wants  to  convict  me; 
for  some  reason,  you're  not  so  keen  about  it. 
The  judge  will  rule  according  to  evidence;  the 
jury's  a  set  of  intellectual  sharps — high-class 
business  men,  teachers;  they're  going  to  find  ac- 
cording to  his  rulings  and  the  evidence.  Too  bad, 
I  say,  that  men  Uke  that  won't  make  a  business 
of  governing  their  city,  instead  of  having  a  fit 
about  it  once  in  a  hundred  years.  Perhaps  I 
wouldn't  have  to  work  so  hard  to  get  my  parks 

[194] 


AS   CAESAR'S    WIFE 

and  playgrounds  through.  Well,  it's  up  to  you. 
You  can  just  give  me  a  little  advantage  with  the 
way  you  handle  the  evidence;  you  lose  your  case, 
to  be  sure,  but  it  will  hurt  Cowperthwaite  more 
than  it  does  you.  He  wants  a  big  record,  some- 
thing that  will  make  the  Supreme  Court  possible 
some  day.  Cowperthwaite,  not  you,  is  the  one 
that  has  been  posing  as  a  reformer;  failure  here 
would  put  something  in  that  record  of  his  that  it 
will  take  a  long  time  to  get  rid  of.  You  see,  you 
had  been  uniformly  successful  before  he  was  put 
on  the  cases.  A  good  many  will  make  the  in- 
ference for  you  and  against  him  from  that.  But, 
as  for  you — " 

W^ard  struggled  to  his  feet;  he  was  shaking 
with  indignation. 

"Really,  Mr.  Mayo,"  he  said,  hotly,  "I  feel 
tempted  to  have  you  indicted  for  this  attempt 
on  me!" 

One  would  have  thought  his  very  vehemence 
encouraged  Mayo.  He  rose  to  his  feet  imper- 
turbably.  Standing,  the  two  men  could  look 
straight  into  each  other's  eyes.  They  were  well 
matched  physically. 

*'I  guess,"  the  Big  Man  said,  coolly,  "this  case 
against  me  will  take  precedence  of  any  other 
for  some  time."  Then  his  eyes  narrowed.  "Look 
here.  Ward  " — he  drove  home  each  word  with 

[195] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

the  significant  emphasis  he  gave  it — "can  you 
tell  me  you  wouldn't  like  to  get  away  from  this 
place,  away  from  whatever  it  is  that  has  made 
you  sore,  Cowperthwaite  or  some  other  man? 
To  some  bigger  city,  say,  with  a  bigger  chance?" 

Ward  started  involuntarily.  It  seemed  of 
terrible  significance,  somehow,  that  this  man 
should  voice  the  thought  that  had  been  tugging 
at  him.  To  get  Ruth  away!  Where  she  could 
never  meet  Cowperthwaite  —  where  he  would 
never  be  reminded,  a  hundred  ugly  moments  in 
each  day,  that  he  had  not  killed  the  man!  Per- 
haps if  he  went  away  he  might  shake  off  this 
strangling  net  that  seemed  to  imprison  him. 
The  air  might  seem  untainted — women  pm-e! 
He  recognized  blindly  that  he  was  being  tempted. 
He  turned  to  go.  "God!"  he  thought,  running 
his  fingers  through  his  wild,  black  hair,  "I  would 
never  have  thought  it  possible.  How  little  men 
know  what  is  in  them!  I — with  the  record  of 
my  whole  life  clean!" 

Mayo's  clear  voice  went  on,  the  voice  that 
sounded  so  honest,  somehow,  in  its  cool,  self- 
respecting  statement  of  a  business  proposition : 

"The  one  thing  that  would  stand  in  the  way  of 
your  getting  away  to,  say,  the  coast,  would  be 
that  you  can't  afford  to  pull  up  stakes  at  this 
time  of  your  life,  when  you  have  established 

11961 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

yourself  here  to  some  extent.  But,  with  a  good 
little  capital,  you  can  plunge  right  into  some 
place  where  things  are  doing,  Spokane,  or  farther 
north.  Personally,  I  believe  I'd  choose  Seattle. 
If  I  were  a  young  man  nothing  would  hold  me 
here.  There's  the  place  for  a  live  man — with  a 
neat  little  capital,  and  your  legal  training,  you 
could  get  right  into  the  thick  of  things.  A  new 
place!    And  a  new  career!" 

The  last  words  seemed  to  be  left  suspended  in 
the  air.  For  Ward,  muttering  something  in- 
articulately, his  face  lowering  dull  red,  his  hair 
tumbling  over  his  forehead,  the  white  lock  gleam- 
ing, fairly  rushed  from  the  room. 

Mayo  pushed  back  the  half-full  glass  before 
him.  His  keen  face,  even  alone  and  unobserved, 
was  expressionless.  He  sat  at  the  table  for  some 
minutes,  tapping  with  his  pencil  on  a  blank  sheet 
of  paper  before  him.  He  was  going  over  in  his 
mind  each  stage  of  the  interview,  each  word  of 
his  own,  and  each  tremor  on  Ward's  face. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

ONE  morning  in  the  third  week  of  Mayo's 
trial  Cowperthwaite,  glancing  as  soon  as 
he  entered  the  court-room  to  the  place  beside 
her  father  that  Claire  Mayo  had  occupied  every 
day,  found  it  vacant.  A  sudden  stab  of  appre- 
hension seemed  to  drain  the  blood  out  of  his 
veins.  "She  must  be  ill,"  he  said  to  himself,  and 
stumbled  into  his  seat.  The  next  moment  a  tide 
of  hot  blood  turned  his  face  crimson.  Then 
Cowperthwaite  knew  what  had  happened  to  him. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  the  tumult  of  all  his 
being,  the  roaring  in  his  ears  as  his  blood  raced 
by  with  its  message,  subsided  enough  for  him  to 
think  consecutively.  When  he  could  he  was  lost 
in  amazement  at  his  own  insanity.  That  he  of 
all  men  should  love  Claire  Mayo — of  all  women! 

He  tried  angrily  to  shake  off  the  conviction 
that  had  fallen  about  him.  It  was  like  a  silk  net 
whose  meshes  were  fine  but  unbreakable;  the 
strangling  maze  was  about  the  centers  of  his 
being.  "What  school-boy  nonsense!"  he  said  to 
himself.     "I'd  better  get  that  idea  out  of  my 

[198] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

head  as  soon  as  possible.  It  might  do  some  harm." 
But  even  as  he  was  forming  the  thought  in  his 
mind  he  knew  the  harm  was  done. 

Ward  that  morning  had  no  need  to  be  on  the 
defensive.  Cowperthwaite  displayed  no  desire 
to  meddle.  Wilson  had  even  to  remind  him  of 
a  small  part  of  the  prosecution  that  Ken  had 
grudgingly  consented  to  assign  to  him.  When- 
ever he  tried  to  fix  his  mind  on  the  proceedings 
he  was  stopped  short  by  this  strange,  paralyzing, 
craving  need  of  her,  need  of  her  mere  presence. 
As  the  morning  wore  on  he  had  to  admit  that 
he  must  give  up  the  hope  of  seeing  her.  A  queer 
anger  rose  in  the  man.  She  had  always  been 
there  before.  Why  wasn't  she  there  then.''  All 
the  force  in  him  was  centered  in  a  passionate 
protest  against  fate.  To  the  intensity  of  it,  it 
seemed  that  death  itself  could  not  be  more  ob- 
durate than  that  empty  chair.  Then  he  jeered 
at  himself  for  going  into  hysterics  over  so  slight 
a  thing.  But  he  knew  all  the  time  underneath 
it  all  that  the  separation  of  the  moment  was  only 
a  sign  of  the  utter  irreconcilable  division  between 
them,  the  grim  fact  that  the  daughter  of  the  man 
whom  it  was  his  deepest  conviction  to  fight  could 
not  have  been  more  absolutely  forbidden  to  him 
if  the  warning  hand  had  indeed  been  Death's. 

"It's  sheer  lunacy,"  he  said  to  himself,  with  a 

[199] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

big  upheaval  of  his  will.  "I  won't  think  of  her 
a  moment  longer." 

For  a  time  his  resolution  held.  He  kept  it  down, 
this  insistent  need  of  her,  need  of  the  thought  of 
her  to  nestle  close  at  his  heart,  of  her  tranquil 
eyes,  of  her  warm  charm,  so  much  more  seductive 
because  it  breathed  of  everything  that  was  sweet 
and  clean  in  its  elemental  completeness.  He 
held  it  down  until  it  was  a  mere  low,  unregarded 
ache,  humble  in  its  lack  of  insistence.  Then  he 
told  himself  that  he  had  conquered,  his  brief 
moment  of  insanity  was  over.  He  was  himself 
again. 

In  this  mood  of  triumph  he  leaned  forward. 

"I'd  like  a  few  minutes  with  that  witness,"  he 
said  to  Ward,  pausing  to  consult  his  notes.  Even 
Ken's  start  of  surprise  and  the  ungraciousness  of 
his  assent  did  not  perturb  Cowperthwaite.  He 
felt  himself  so  much  his  own  master  that  he  could 
not  be  disturbed  by  lesser  foes.  He  put  his  few 
questions  tersely,  tellingly.  A  murmur  of  re- 
sponse followed;  he  had  scored  for  their  side. 
Even  Mayo  marked  it  with  a  grunt  of  protest. 
Cowperthwaite's  eyes  were  deflected  to  the  va- 
cant chair.  "If  she  were  here  that  would  have 
hurt  her,"  he  thought,  with  a  pang  of  masterful 
tenderness.  The  pitiful  line  of  her  lip  when  she 
was  trouble\l  and  wouldn't  show  it  flashed  before 

[200] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

his  vision  as  clearly  as  if  it  were  there,  red  and 
quivering.  She  was  probably  ill,  she  had  been 
under  an  inhuman  strain.  The  dull  ache  crashed 
into  triumphant  agony.  All  his  brave  effort  was 
overthrown.     Back  it  all  rolled. 

By  the  time  of  the  noon  recess  he  thought  again 
he  was  his  own  master;  the  ache  was  so  decep- 
tively quiet  that  he  didn't  suspect  it  was  a  little 
harder.  He  shook  off  Wilson,  who  obviously 
wanted  to  lunch  with  him.  As  he  got  near  the 
primitive  cafe  they  all  for  some  reason  frequented 
the  lawyer  came  across  a  group  of  Mayo's  friends. 
His  instinct  was  to  join  them.  "They  might  say 
something  about  her,"  he  thought,  hungrily. 
"Mayo  may  have  said  whether  she  was  ill." 
The  anger  at  himself  for  his  own  childishness  was 
no  greater  than  his  wrath  at  the  fate  that  had 
made  it  impossible  for  him  even  to  ask  for  her 
welfare.  He  clenched  his  hands  as  he  realized 
that  anything  might  happen  to  her  and  he  not 
know!  And  the  least  one  of  Mayo's  following 
could  boldly  ask  about  her! 

Somehow  the  afternoon  passed,  an  uncanny 
phantasmagoria  to  Cowperthwaite,  kept  in  order 
by  a  painstaking  effort  not  to  show  that  his  state 
of  mind  was  anything  unusual.  He  became  crafty 
in  hiding  what  he  found  he  was  powerless  to  pre- 
vent.    It  came  to  a  time  when  merely  not  to 

[201] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

turn  to  the  man  next  him  with  her  name  on  his 
lips  seemed  something  to  be  proud  of.  When  he 
realized  that,  Cowperthwaite  caught  himself  up. 

"If  this  keeps  on  I'll  have  to  have  a  guardian,'* 
he  muttered,  grimly,  to  himself.  But  his  habit 
of  believing  in  himself  came  to  the  front  and  he 
laughed  the  panic  down. 

It  must  have  been  well  toward  the  end  of  the 
afternoon  when  he  was  goaded  past  all  endurance. 
It  was  impossible  to  sit  still.  He  jumped  up  with 
a  smothered  exclamation.  Hardly  pausing  to 
mutter  something  sidelong  to  Wilson  that  might 
be  taken  as  an  explanation,  he  left. 

Out  in  the  street  his  madness,  if  it  was  mad- 
ness— ^he  was  assuring  himself  that  it  was  the 
first  moment  of  ordinary  common  sense  he  had 
ever  known — ^persisted  and  grew  violent.  He 
walked  the  crowded  streets  unseeingly.  His  eyes 
were  so  filled  with  one  vision,  the  spectacle  he 
had  conjured  up  of  her  face  with  love  glorifying 
it,  that  he  had  a  sense  of  a  magnificent  panorama 
accompanying  him.  The  vague  recollection  of 
the  quarter  of  the  city  in  which  Mayo  lived  must 
have  unconsciously  guided  him.  He  didn't  Imow 
he  had  directed  there  the  stride  of  his  glorious 
intoxication,  but  he  found  himself  before  Mayo's 
house.      ♦ 

For  just  one  moment  he  raised  his  eyes  to  its 

[202] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

comfortable,  red-brick  plainness  and  wondered 
at  himself.  What  if  some  one  should  see  him! 
The  inference  that  he  was  in  collusion  with  Mayo 
would  be  a  perfectly  natural  one.  It  was  sheer 
insanity  for  him  to  be  there.  The  next  instant 
he  had  rung  the  bell.  It  seemed  a  mysterious 
thing  when  a  fresh-cheeked  maid  answered  the 
door;  it  was  more  magical  still  when  he  caught 
the  echo  of  his  own  voice  askiag  if  Miss  Mayo 
was  at  home;  he  wondered  vaguely  at  the  worldly 
wisdom  his  hands  displayed  when  he  saw  them 
extracting  his  card  from  a  case.  When,  crown  to 
all  the  unheard-of  emotion  of  the  day,  Claire 
Mayo  stood  before  him,  he  was  too  overcome  by 
the  miracle  to  think  of  one  word  that  would  fit. 

Fortunately  it  was  not  necessary  for  him  to  find 
a  topic.  His  coming  had  evidently  meant  just 
one  thing  to  her. 

"My  father.'*"  she  asked,  breathlessly.  Then 
Cowperthwaite  saw  that  she  was  frightened. 
That  sobered  him  instantly. 

"He  is  still  in  court;  there  is  nothing  wrong," 
he  hurried  to  reassure  her.  Then  he  lost  himself 
again  as  he  watched  the  faiut  pink  come  back 
into  her  cheeks. 

"Then  it's  some  good  news  you  have  come  to 
tell  me.''  The  case  is  decided  for  him?  "  Her  eyes 
sought  his  in  the  utter  simplicity  of  their  appeal. 

14  [203] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

Her  naive  ignorance  of  the  ponderousness  of 
court  procedure  brought  a  passing  indulgent  smile 
to  his  lips,  then  the  wonder  of  her  having  found 
nothing  inconsistent  in  his  being  the  bearer  of 
such  news  claimed  him.  He  realized  tenderly 
that  it  meant  that  somehow  instinct  in  her  had 
made  her  aware  of  the  sympathy  in  him. 

"Nothing  happened  to-day  of  any  importance, 
I  believe."    He  spoke  with  some  vagueness. 

She  looked  at  him  rather  helplessly.  It  was 
evident  that  her  courtesy  was  struggling  with 
the  childish  impulse  to  ask  plainly,  "Then  why 
did  you  come.^^ "  He  realized  that,  too,  and  smiled 
again  with  the  passionate  softening  that  any 
thought  of  the  unexplored  wonders  of  her  nature 
seemed  to  bring.  "Won't  you  let  me  take  your 
hat,"  she  substituted,  with  her  Kttle  air  of 
womanliness,  "and  let  me  give  you  tea?" 

He  assented  weakly,  still  amazed  at  himself. 
There  was  an  interval  when  it  was  necessary  to 
ring  and  make  what  seemed  to  Cowperthwaite 
some  very  comphcated  arrangements.  He,  fortu- 
nately, didn't  have  to  talk  much  during  this 
episode.  He  could  watch  her  and  so  manage  to 
get  out  a  few  phrases  that  would  pass  muster  as 
more  or  less  conventionally  appropriate.  The 
haze  lifted  Jong  enough  for  him  to  tell  himself 
that  he  certainly  did  need  to  explain  this  unex- 

[204] 


AS   CAESAR'S    WIFE 

pected  and  extraordinary  visit  of  his.  And  there 
really  seemed  to  be  nothing  that  would  explain  it. 
Yet  when  she  was  enchantingly  seated  before  her 
glistening  tea  equipage  the  one  idea  that  ob- 
sessed him  was  that  if  he  could  once  touch  her 
hand,  the  one  nearer  to  him  that  had  no  ring 
on  it,  every  puzzle  in  heaven  and  earth  would 
immediately  be  explained.  And  when  he  loosened 
his  grasp  on  the  arm  of  his  chair  his  own  hand 
did  automatically  waver  toward  it.  That  fright- 
ened him,  and  he  incarcerated  the  hand  in  a 
pocket.  Then  the  old  possession  of  his  craving 
to  know  that  nothing  was  really  the  matter  with 
her,  that  even  though  she  looked  so  blooming 
there  was  not  some  insidious  ailment  lurking, 
overcame  everything  else.  As  she  held  out  his 
cup  to  him  he  forgot  to  take  it. 

"You  were  not  in  court  to-day — I  hope  you 
are  not  ill.^^" 

Claire  put  the  cup  down;  if  she  had  not  it 
would  have  fallen.  All  the  strength  had  got 
out  of  her  arm.  Even  in  her  lack  of  preparation 
she  could  not  fail  to  see  that  some  strong  anxiety 
about  her,  strong  enough  to  have  changed  the 
keen  face  she  knew  by  heart  to  a  mask  for  ex- 
pressing hungry  longing,  had  moved  him. 

She  found,  after  the  first  instant  of  stupefac- 
tion, that  she  was  not  really  so  much  surprised, 

[205] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

after  all.  Nothing,  after  all,  seemed  more  natural 
than  that  he  should  care;  nothing  that  she  had 
ever  done  seemed  more  usual  than  that  she  should 
sit  there,  in  her  familiar  drawing-room  with  him, 
giving  him  the  little  symbol  of  welcome  that  the 
little  tea-cup  spelled.  Instead  of  wonder  a  warm 
tide  of  well-being  was  rising  in  her;  it  fitted  in 
harmoniously  with  something  that  lay  deep  in 
her  heart,  that  this  man  should  be  anxious  be- 
cause of  her  absence. 

"Oh  no,"  she  said,  simply;  "I  just — didn't 
feel  that  I  could  go." 

"Why.f*"  He  pressed  the  matter  with  a  dull 
insistence. 

She  tried  to  answer: 

"Why,  sometimes  it  is  pretty  hard."  Her 
voice  failed  her  at  the  last. 

That  seemed  to  Cowperthwaite  the  essence  of 
all  the  unbearable  tragedies.  He  hated  himself 
for  having  brought  it  on  her.  He  hated  the 
whole  association  that  had  brought  that  mist  to 
her  eyes. 

"I'm  sorry,"  he  managed  to  mutter. 

"Do  you  know,  I  couldn't  help  hoping  when 
you  came  that  you  had  somehow  grown  to  know 
father  better.  I  felt  sure  you  wouldn't  persecute 
any  one — ^for,  of  course,  this  trial  is  just  persecu- 
tion— unless  you  really  thought  you  were  right.'* 

[206] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

"What  made  you  think  that?"  Cowper- 
thwaite's  sense  of  the  larger  issue  was  quite  lost 
in  the  hope  that  she  was  going  to  say  something 
that  showed  some  special  belief  in  him. 

*'0h,  how  can  I  tell?  It's  just  that  one  feels 
things.  And  then" — she  seized  on  something 
she  could  quote  with  evident  relief — "father  once 
said  that  you  were  honest — 'straight,'  I  think 
he  called  it.  And,  you  know,  from  father  that 
meant  a  great  deal." 

"It's  all  very  well  for  her  to  say  that,"  Cow- 
perthwaite  was  thinking  in  fatuous  complacency. 
"It  was  evident  from  the  look  in  her  eyes  that 
she  felt  there  was  this  something  between  us.'* 

But  she  turned  on  him.  And  when  Cowper- 
thwaite  saw  the  indignation  in  her  flushed  face 
he  wished  that  he  were  dead. 

"How  can  you  find  fault  with  my  father?  I 
just  have  to  think  that  it's  because  you  don't 
know.  If  I  didn't —  You  don't  know  him.  And 
it  isn't  fair  to  attack  him  unless  you  do.  My 
father  dishonest!  He  has  never  given  his  word 
without  making  it  good.  And  he  has  never  been 
disloyal  to  a  friend  in  his  life." 

It  cost  Cowperthwaite  a  good  deal  to  shake 
his  head  reluctantly.  He  felt  that  he  had  to 
put  down  his  tea-cup  and  go.     He  rose. 

That  he  should  go  was  just  the  one  thing  that 

[207] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

Claire  hadn't  expected.  Everything  seemed  to 
be  falling  away  from  her.  She  had  an  impression 
that  all  existence  would  cease  if  he  got  outside 
the  door.  Desperate  need  requires  desperate 
remedies.  A  distinctly  unmaidenly  impulse 
seized  on  Claire.  Under  its  inifluence  she  looked 
at  Cowperthwaite,  deliberate  petition  in  her  eyes. 

"If  you  only  could  understand  him  better! 
And  then  we  could  be  friends!" 

In  spite  of  her  petition — it  would  probably  be 
more  accurate  to  say  because  of  it — Cowper- 
thwaite mustered  up  all  his  reserve  strength  and 
left. 

Cowperthwaite  was  so  angry  with  himself  at 
the  suspicion  of  flight  in  his  departure  that  he 
failed  to  recognize  a  man  whom  he  almost  ran 
into  at  the  bottom  of  the  steps.  The  active  mem- 
ber of  the  Civic  Club,  whom  it  happened  to  be, 
looked  at  him  in  some  surprise  when  he  observed 
from  what  house  he  was  coming  and  marked,  in 
greater  surprise,  Cowperthwaite's  lack  of  recog- 
nition of  him  and  the  frantic  haste  with  which 
the  lawyer  tore  down  the  street. 

Cowperthwaite  walked  some  blocks  without 
any  more  explicit  emotion  than  that  of  rage  at 
himself.  Then  when,  with  suspicious  suddenness, 
arguments  began  to  push  into  his  mind  that 
tended  to  prove  that  Boss  Mayo,  after  all,  had 

1208] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

probably  done  more  good  than  harm,  he  awoke 
to  the  consciousness  that  he  was  being  tempted. 
Life  had  never  aroused  in  Will  Cowperthwaite 
any  very  overwhelming  longing  to  do  forbid- 
den things.  Vitally  alive  and  young  and  full  of 
healthful  response  to  the  appeal  of  every  form  of 
experience  as  he  was,  his  mind  had  been,  perhaps, 
the  dominant  factor  with  him.  Therefore,  be- 
yond an  occasional  convivial  impulse  toward  the 
glass  beyond  the  safe  one — an  impulse  easily 
dismissed — and  the  transient  thrill  from  the  in- 
vitation of  a  dallying  woman's  eye,  he  had  gone 
free  and  scatheless.  Fastidiousness  made  him 
invulnerable  to  some  assaults,  the  rigorous  moral 
habit  of  his  upbringing  to  some  others.  He  had 
never  known  how  to  be  thankful  for  his  own  im- 
munity. In  decorous  concert  with  church-going 
people  he  had  begged  to  be  preserved  from  a 
mythical  temptation  that  had  acquired  a  certain 
ecclesiastical  dignity  from  such  public,  stained - 
glass-lighted  wholesale  confession.  He  had  never 
really  known  the  meaning  of  the  word  he  used. 
He  had  supposed  the  sins  he  prayed  to  ward  off 
had  very  much  the  same  appeal  to  him  as  to 
others.  He  had  rather  wondered  what  was  the 
use  of  invoking  the  aid  of  the  Almighty  against 
shadowy  legions  that  were  so  easily  routed  by 
the  mere  exercise  of  a  sane  man's  will.  He 
[ieo9] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

could  never  have  been  tempted  save  by  the 
greatest  of  all  temptations.  And  when  it  came 
he  was  totally  unarmed  to  contend  with  the 
storm  of  rebellion  against  the  prohibition  that 
had  gone  hand  in  hand  with  his  knowledge  of 
love  for  Claire. 

Why,  what  did  it  matter  if  she  was  Mayors 
daughter?  For  the  first  time  in  his  man's  life 
— ^no  thought  of  Ruth  came  to  trouble  his  un- 
questionable conclusion — he  loved!  He  had 
waited  for  the  coming  of  the  woman.  In  an  in- 
stant he  knew  every  hidden  beauty  of  her  heart 
and  spirit.  It  was  not  only  that  his  arm  tingled 
with  the  longing  to  just  hold  her.  The  instanta- 
neous miracle  had  struck  the  blindness  from  his 
eyes.  He  saw  that  she  had  from  the  first  moment 
spoken  with  exquisite  rightness  to  the  strange 
sense  of  knowledge  that  had  been  always  his. 
Every  atom  of  her  body,  and  that  only  less 
tangible  sweetness  that  is  named  spirit,  was  in 
tune  with  every  pulsation  of  the  consciousness 
that  was  named  himself.  It  was  achingly  sweet 
just  to  think  of  her.  God-ordained  and  God- 
appointed,  their  love,  he  had  not  a  doubt  of  it. 
What  could  muddy,  then,  any  approach  that  led 
to  her? 

After  all,  he  liked  Mayo.  The  Big  Man's 
course  was  ^perfectly  justifiable  from  one  point 

[210] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

of  view.  Everything  in  life  was  such  a  muddle 
of  good  and  bad,  how  could  any  one  tell  what  was 
abstractly  right  and  what  was  wrong?  Wasn't 
the  life  of  a  man  like  Mayo  of  more  practical 
effect  than  a  dozen  of  the  theorists  that  fought 
against  him?  What  of  human  good  had  he 
himself  ever  done  who  judged  him?  What 
action  of  his  own  life  could  approximate  the 
number  of  families  that  Mayo  had  been  main- 
taining— his  henchmen  to  be  sure,  but  receiving, 
in  return  for  their  allegiance,  protection  and 
safety  and  bread  to  fill  the  mouths  at  home. 
Look  at  the  tired,  work-worn  women  whose  only 
outings  were  the  ones  that  Mayo  had  provided. 
Look  at  the  food,  the  work,  doctor's  service, 
nurse's  care  he  stood  sponsor  for!  Why,  the 
grip  of  the  man's  hand  was  better  than  a  pension ! 
It  was  just  a  matter  of  adjusting  his  own  ideas 
a  bit,  suppressing  his  theories.  Then — for  he 
could  take  care  of  Lyman — then  the  way  was 
clear  to  Claire! 

So  far  Cowperthwaite  had  gone  before  the  end 
of  his  madness  came.  Then  with  a  self-disgust 
that  was  intolerable  he  saw  himself,  a  man  ready 
to  sell  his  honor  for  the  thing  he  wanted. 

In  the  revulsion  of  feeling  that  turned  his  face, 
alone  as  he  was,  a  shamed  red,  the  man  knew 
that  no  happiness  so   tainted  could  be  worth 

[211] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

having.  He  knew  that  he  could  take  no  road 
to  Claire  that  involved  the  dimming  of  the  only 
light  he  had  to  go  by.  He  made  his  decision, 
and  he  thought  that  fact  alone  would  hold  it. 

But  he  found  that  he  was  only  at  the  begin- 
ning of  a  strife  that  was  new  with  every  heart- 
beat. And  each  time  he  threw  off  the  giant 
that  attacked  him  his  enemy  picked  himself 
up  from  the  earth  he  came  from  and  rushed  at 
him,  stronger  for  defeat.  "Where  are  the  men 
that  tell  you  that  each  time  you  master  a  temp- 
tation it  grows  weaker.?"  Cowperthwaite  mut- 
tered, grimly,  "I'd  like  to  have  one  of  'em  right 
here  now!"  He  felt  that  he  was  being  shaken 
by  each  successive  blow.  So  he  gave  up  fighting 
and  tried  to  walk  until  he  was  too  tired  to 
think. 

Cowperthwaite  never  knew  just  where  he 
wandered  that  wild  night.  The  thought  of 
dinner  never  occurred  to  him.  It  was  a  lovely 
night  and  moonlit.  But  the  moonlight  only 
served  to  make  more  bitter  his  own  struggle, 
weaving  madness  into  it  with  intolerable  longing. 
The  streets  that  he  instinctively  chose  were  mean 
and  sordid,  thronged  with  unwashed  men  and 
women  trying  to  get  a  fresh  breath  of  air.  Miles 
and  miles  he  tore  along  such  teeming  districts, 
ignoring  his  weariness,  the  drops  that  trickled 

[212] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

from  his  burning  forehead,  m  the  attempt  to 
outrace  the  thing  that  dogged  him. 

Gradually,  as  he  flagged,  from  the  mere  ex- 
haustion of  his  muscles,  his  mood  from  passion 
changed  to  a  softer  sadness.  His  eyes  wete 
opened  to  the  sorry  pageant  of  jaded  men  and 
women  that  thronged  past  him.  Sordid  and 
unlovely,  planet-wide  from  the  fair  girl  whose 
love  he  fled  from,  at  first  he  felt  irritatedly  aloof 
from  them.  But  ultimately  he  saw  in  the  pass- 
ing faces  traces  of  the  same  forces  that  tore  him. 
There  was  often  joy  in  them,  love  for  some  one, 
jealousy,  longing,  sometimes  despair.  Often  he 
could  discern  clearly  the  onslaughts  of  some 
temptation. 

As  the  hour  grew  later  it  was  more  often  that 
some  drunkard  lurched  against  him.  At  first 
that  was  only  an  added  source  of  disgust,  but 
after  a  time  be  began  to  wonder  what  made 
them  what  they  were.  He  saw  one  forlorn, 
watery-eyed,  tremulous  creature  walk  deliberate- 
ly past  an  open  saloon  door,  pause,  come  back, 
walk  past.  As  Cowperthwaite  watched  his 
struggles  to  withstand  the  curse  that  tugged  at 
him,  at  last,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  he  under- 
stood. "Poor  devil!"  he  thought,  with  a  new 
real  comprehension.  "The  craving's  after  him. 
It's  just  a  toss-up  that  it's  something  else  with 

[2131 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

me."  Then  suddenly  his  heart  opened  wide 
with  a  great  passion  of  sympathy.  "So  that''s 
what  it  is  to  have  to  fight  something!  Can  it 
be  that  the  same  hand  sends  the  temptation  and 
withholds  the  power  to  resist.''" 

The  lurching  figure  wavered  back,  turned 
desperately,  was  going  in.  In  the  queer  dream 
in  which  Cowperthwaite  seemed  to  act  apart 
from  his  own  volition  he  reached  out  a  forceful 
hand  to  the  man's  shoulder,  pulled  him  along 
with  him,  got  him  into  a  clean  eating-house  he 
had  noted.  A  few  words,  a  little  money — the 
derelict  was  sitting  before  a  plentiful  nourishing 
supper,  with  enough  strong  coffee,  eating  be- 
cause he  was  told  to  eat.  He,  too,  seemed  to 
yield  to  something  outside  his  own  volition. 
That  it  was  Cowperthwaite  in  this  case  made 
little  difference  to  either  man.  A  word  or  so 
to  the  not  unkindly  man  who  kept  the  place, 
some  more  money,  and  Cowperthwaite  left  with 
assurance  that  the  waif  should  have  shelter 
until  he  was  himself  again. 

Out  in  the  streets  again,  wondering  if  he  could 
at  last  go  to  his  rooms  with  any  chance  of  sleep- 
ing, a  sodden  woman  loitered  past  him,  peering 
out  with  her  hopeless,  furtive,  shameless  eyes. 
And  her  Cowperthwaite  saw  with  the  understand- 
ing that  sfeemed  to  turn  always  into  such  un- 

[214] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

judging  gentleness:  "So  this  is  what  she  had  to 
meet,  poor  soul!  Oh,  poor  soul!"  And  because 
of  the  bill  he  pressed  into  her  hand  in  passing 
he  saw  that  she  started,  looked  into  her  hand 
with  incredulous  wonder,  tried  to  see  who  had 
done  it,  then  turned  right  about  and  sped  with 
eager,  purposeful  feet  back  down  the  way  she 
had  come. 

It  was  not  until  then  that  Cowperthwaite 
felt  the  storm  that  had  raged  in  him  for  past 
hours  sink  into  restfulness.  Whether  it  was 
from  mere  bodily  weariness  or  from  some  other 
reason,  he  felt  very  little  now  but  peace.  He 
could  face  his  own  rooms  now  and  sleep.  But 
when  he  was  there  among  the  familiar  things 
that  he  seemed  to  look  at  as  from  a  great  dis- 
tance, and  sat  before  the  window  smoking  a 
cigar  before  he  went  to  bed,  the  thought  of  Ward 
and  of  Ruth  swept  in  to  destroy  his  new-found 
complacency.  For  the  first  time  it  came  to  him 
with  full  force  what  he  had  in  great  part  been 
responsible  for,  what  happiness  he  had  been  the 
means  of  destroying.  He  knew.  More,  he  shook 
with  the  passion  of  it  as  if  it  had  been  his 
own  life  with  Claire  that  had  been  invaded. 
He  felt  that  he  knew  to  the  full  what  Ken  had 
suffered.  He  loathed  himself  for  the  part  he 
had  played.     But  he  stopped  himself,  with  sane 

[215] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

masculine  balance,  as  he  told  himself  that  wrong 
as  he  had  been  he  had  at  least  tried  to  atone. 
He  felt  that  he  miderstood  why  it  was  taking 
Ken  so  long  to  get  over  his  enmity.  The  womid 
had  been  a  deep  one.  "Poor  old  Ken,"  he 
thought,  with  shamed  tenderness,  "I  didn't 
realize.  How  he  must  have  suffered!"  The 
first  glimmer  of  dawn,  a  red  dawn  that  showed 
the  day  would  be  hot,  reached  him  where  he 
sat  lost  hi  brotherly,  sympg,thetic  schemes  by 
which  he  could  again  be  friends  with  Ken. 

The  light  warned  him  that  he  must  get  an 
hour  or  so  of  sleep.  But  before  he  slept,  Claire's 
face,  momentarily  pushed  into  the  background, 
came  back  to  him.  In  a  surging  up  of  all  the 
power  within  him  he  vowed  to  himself: 

"I'll  not  get  her  that  way.  I  won't  let  my 
principles  warp  by  a  hair's-breadth.  But — some- 
how— I'll  have  my  girl." 

For  once  in  her  life  Claire  had  been  glad  that 
her  father  had  a  dinner  engagement  and  that 
she  had  her  evening  to  herself.  There  was  some- 
thing uncomfortable  in  the  thought  of  meeting 
her  father's  eyes.  Moreover,  she  seemed  to 
have  a  great  deal  to  think  about  that  she  could 
only  think  about  comfortably  with  no  one  look- 
ing on. 

[  216  ] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

So  instead  of  spending  the  evening  down- 
stairs, or  even  in  her  own  little  sitting-room, 
she  went  up  to  her  pretty  bedroom  and  sat  in 
the  low  chair  drawn  up  before  the  window  with 
no  light  but  that  which  came  in  from  the 
street. 

A  busy  street  it  was,  much  more  full  of  drama 
than  any  withdrawn  locality  up-town  where  all 
the  family  life  did  not  take  place  on  front  stoops 
in  this  first  heat  of  summer.  But,  although  her 
eyes  were  on  the  constant  stir,  she  saw  nothing 
of  it.  In  spite  of  the  angry  clamor  that  arose 
from  two  different  quarrels,  sounds  that  would 
have  troubled  her  yesterday,  she  sat  with  a  soft, 
inward  smile  upon  her  lips.  For  one  face,  with 
just  one  look  on  it,  the  one  that  told  her  she  was 
fair  and  that  the  man  was  hungry  for  the  very 
soul  of  her,  hung  before  her  eyes.  When  she 
closed  her  eyes  she  could  live  it  all,  every 
throbbing  instant  of  it,  all  over  again.  That 
glowing  pageant  of  her  fancy  made  all  other  life 
a  shadow  and  every  sound  a  far-away  tinkle 
that  she  would  have  been  impatient  with  had 
she  not  been  able  to  close  her  ears  against  it. 

It  must  have  been  very  early  when  she  went 
to  bed.  For  she  was  lying  with  her  face  toward 
the  windows,  her  two  heavy  ropes  of  hair  flung 
across  the  pillow,   when  the  big  round  moon 

[217] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

looked  in  with  a  sudden  plop! — as  if  he  were 
surprised  to  find  the  world  already  lovelit.  At 
the  sight  of  his  red  face  she  stretched  her  round 
arms  above  her  head  with  a  conscious  sigh.  She 
found  she  had  not  the  slightest  desire  to  sleep; 
time  seemed  too  pleasant  to  lose  so.  The  wide, 
lace-ruffled  sleeves  fell  away  from  her  arms. 
She  stretched  them  out  before  her  eyes  and 
looked  at  her  arms — when  she  had  pulled  aside 
the  hangings  to  ring  for  the  tea  his  eyes  had 
been  like  a  kiss  on  them.  She  looked  at  their 
long,  slender  grace  again  and  then  folded  them 
tight  against  her  hot  cheeks.  For  the  first 
time  in  her  life  she  loved  the  whiteness  that  the 
moon  turned  into  something  luminous.  She 
kissed  the  cool,  white  arms  on  the  under  side,  just 
below  the  elbow  where  the  veins  showed  bluest; 
it  was  there  that  his  eyes  had  been.  And  a  long, 
delicious  shiver  ran  all  over  the  graceful  length 
of  her,  a  shiver  that  somehow  ended  with  a 
tender  sigh  and  a  little  ache  in  her  throat  that 
brought  a  soft  mist  of  tears. 

For  a  long  time  she  lay  there  very  quietly,  half 
thinking,  half  merely  alive  to  life  and  all  its 
unknown  joys.  The  something  that  made  her 
so  alive  and  so  mysteriously  pulsating  even  to 
the  broad  face  of  the  moon,  where  she  still  could 
see  the  wo'man's  face  she  had  been  proud  to  find 

[218] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

in  childhood,  was  so  new  that  it  took  possession 
of  her  utterly. 

When  the  joy  had  lasted  just  long  enough  to 
make  her  lightly  weary,  and  the  moon  took  his 
face  from  the  wondow  and  left  only  soft,  restful 
shadows  behind,  she  slipped  down  deeper  into 
her  cool,  soft  pillows,  said  good  night  in  her 
heart  to  the  look  in  his  eyes  that  said  how  fair 
she  was,  cuddled  her  cheek  against  the  thought 
of  him,  and  fell  happily  to  sleep. 

15 


CHAPTER  XX 

TT^ROM  its  dawn  the  day  was  hot  and  sultry. 
■*■  Mayo's  trial  was  nearing  its  close.  It  was 
Holding's  turn  to  be  brought  to  the  witness- 
stand,  and  Holding  was  the  last  witness  for  the 
prosecution.  There  was  a  general  knowledge 
that  his  testimony  would  convict  Mayo — that 
is,  if  it  was  possible  to  have  Mayo  convicted. 
So,  in  spite  of  the  heat,  the  court-room  was  more 
than  comfortably  filled  with  those  who  were 
not  willing  to  miss  the  great  day  of  the  trial. 
The  Civic  Club  was  there  almost  in  its  full 
membership,  and  many  other  men  who  were  in 
full  sympathy  with  their  crusade.  These  were 
all  packed,  in  perspiring  discomfort,  side  by  side 
with  Mayo's  friends  and  henchmen,  and  with  a 
smaller  percentage  than  usual  of  the  merely 
curious. 

The  heat  and  the  long  strain  of  things  had 
given  Ward  a  sickly  pallor.  His  examination 
of  Holding  dragged  through  its  perfunctory 
first  stages.  Cowperthwaite,  pending  the  mo- 
ment some  ]f)oint  of  importance  would  be  raised, 

[220] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

had  all  his  energy  concentrated  on  trying  to 
keep  his  eyes  away  from  Claire.  This  day  she 
sat  with  her  father.  It  was  too  near  the  turmoil 
of  last  night's  struggle  to  make  it  safe  for  the 
attorney's  eyes  to  meet  hers. 

It  was  a  curious,  ominous  day,  fitfully  overcast, 
stickily  hot.  The  low,  threatening  growling  of 
thunder  that  seemed  to  crawl  from  beneath 
the  edges  of  the  clouds  but  never  did  more  than 
threaten,  the  occasional  tremulous  flutter  of 
lightning  that  tried  to  mask  itself  behind  the 
dubious  daylight,  the  lifeless  air  that  once  in  a 
while  gathered  itself  together  for  a  vindictive 
gust — everything  served  to  set  nerves  in  uneasy 
vibration.  Everywhere  gloomy  faces  peered 
distrustfully  through  the  creeping  darkness. 
Cowperthwaite  broke  his  promise  to  himself 
and  let  his  eyes  seek  Claire.  Her  face  glimmered 
palely  through  the  dusky  air — "too  pale,"  the 
lover  thought,  with  a  pang  of  misgiving.  She 
met  his  gaze  quietly.  Whether  it  was  the  pre- 
vailing tension  or  something  in  herself,  he  felt 
that  there  was  something  tragic  in  the  calm  of 
her  eyes.  Perhaps  it  was  only  that  they  were 
dark  in  shadow,  and  so  changed  all  the  expres- 
sion of  her  face. 

Cowperthwaite's  eyes  traveled  farther.  Mayo, 
too,  sat  passively,  and  it  seemed  that  the  lawyers 

[221] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

looked  resigned.  One  and  all,  they  appeared  to 
await  some  expected  blow,  realizing  their  own 
impotence.  Ward's  face  was  set  in  bitter  lines; 
there  was  a  triumphant  glitter  in  his  eye;  he 
reddened  sometimes  when  there  was  no  apparent 
reason — it  was  almost  a  purple  stain  that  over- 
spread his  face.  Holding  faced  him  with  a  meek- 
ness that  Cowperthwaite  fancied  had  something 
in  it  of  the  ironic;  he  was  entirely  passive. 
Ward  alone,  of  all  the  principals,  seemed  charged 
with  energy.  Cowperthwaite  wondered  whether 
his  letter  had  been  effective  and  Ward  was  be- 
ginning to  be  himself  again,  and  speculated  how 
soon  Ward  would  speak. 

The  examination  droned  on;  Holding  answered 
politely  always,  with  all  complaisance.  But 
sometimes  Cowperthwaite  moved  impatiently  at 
the  drift  of  Ward's  questions.  He  was  not  always 
following  up  the  line  they  had  agreed  upon  to- 
gether. Many  of  the  associate's  suggestions  were 
being  ignored.  It  was  not  egotism  that  made 
Cowperthwaite  feel  that  Ken  was  losing  by  it; 
he  was  quite  impersonal  in  his  judgment;  on 
some  points  Ward  had  always  been  accustomed 
to  defer  to  him.  Still,  the  relationship  between 
the  lawj'^er  and  the  witness  seemed  to  be  so  har- 
monious that^  the  spectators  became  convinced 
that  Holding  would  testify  to  the  transactions 

[222] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

they  all  knew  were  involved,  and  so  practically 
decide  the  case  against  Mayo;  they  had  begun 
to  look  at  the  Big  Man  with  covert  sympathy  or 
open  curiosity  to  see  how  he  would  take  it. 
Cowperthwaite  tightened  his  lips  at  the  thought 
of  what  her  father's  ruin  would  mean  to  Claire! 
If  Mayo  was  unable  finally  to  evade  punishment 
she  would  be  alone,  possibly,  without  protection ! 

In  that  moment  a  messenger  came  to  him  with 
a  card  which  the  darkness  wouldn't  let  him  read. 
But  the  boy  explained  obligingly;  a  lady  wanted 
to  see  him.  Cowperthwaite  rose  dutifully  and 
went  into  the  corridor;  he  was  a  Httle  impatient 
at  the  interruption,  but,  at  the  rate  things  were 
going,  it  would  be  an  hour  before  any  crucial 
point  was  reached.  Ward  saw  him  go,  and  looked 
after  him  with  triumphant  calculation  in  his  eye. 

It  developed  that  the  lady  was  the  wife  of  one 
of  the  members  of  the  Civic  Club.  She  explained 
volubly  just  why  her  husband  had  not  been  able 
to  come;  and  she  had  sent  for  Cowperthwaite  to 
see  if  he  could  get  her  a  seat!  Cowperthwaite 
felt  some  annoyed  amusement  at  the  interrup- 
tion. As  she  was  a  lady  who  was  unable  to  force 
the  large  flow  of  her  language  into  any  terseness, 
it  took  her  some  time  to  make  known  her  pur- 
pose, and  some  exuberant  minutes  more  for 
thanks  when  he  had  found  a  bailiff  and  turned 

[223] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

the  lady  over  to  him  with  instructions.  So  he 
found  that  ten  full  minutes  had  been  lost  when 
he  turned  back  to  his  seat. 

But  in  that  interval  some  current  of  strong 
excitement  had  swept  over  the  assembly.  In 
the  Mayo  camp  men  were  shaking  one  another's 
hands  in  noisy  congratulation.  Mayo  was  smihng 
broadly.  In  the  midst  of  his  puzzle  Cowper- 
thwaite  had  time  for  a  passing  moment  of  de- 
light to  see  that  Claire  was  radiant  with  happi- 
ness. He  looked  toward  the  stand;  Holding  was 
no  longer  there.  He  looked  toward  his  colleagues : 
Wilson  was  biting  his  Hps  in  agitation ;  Ward  sat, 
in  what  it  was  easy  to  see  was  an  assumed  calm 
but  dark  to  his  very  forehead  with  the  purplish 
tide.    The  judge  was  speaking. 

"What's  up?"  Cowperthwaite  whispered  to 
Wilson.    "Where's  Holding?" 

"Ward's  dismissed  him,"  muttered  the  poor 
boy,  barely  able  to  keep  the  tears  of  mortification 
from  his  eyes'.  "With  not  one  blamed  thing 
proved!" 

Cowperthwaite's  mind  was  in  a  maze.  What 
was  the  matter?  Had  Ken  had  some  new  infor- 
mation? Why,  that  would  lose  the  case  for  them. 
And  they  had  had  Holding!  Had  Ken  lost  his 
mind  or  only  his  nerve?  Or,  if  it  were  any  other 
man  than  Keli  he  would  say  that  Mayo  had  him. 

[224] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

That's  what  every  one  would  say.  What  was 
there  for  him  to  do?  Would  it  make  it  better  or 
worse  if  he  jumped  up  and  demanded  to  have 
Holding  brought  back  and  so  made  an  open 
scene?  No,  that  would  kill  them  surely.  After 
all,  it  wasn't  Mayo  alone,  it  was  the  cause — 
maybe  he  could  get  hold  of  Ken  outside  and  fix 
the  thing  up,  and  so  have  harmony  before  the 
world.  There  must  be  something  that  he  didn't 
know.  It  wasn't  thinkable  that  there  was  any- 
thing rotten.  Oh,  what,  in  the  whole  creation, 
was  there  that  he  could  do  and  not  make  things 
worse? 

From  all  points  of  the  room  rose  higher  and 
higher  the  murmur  of  excited  comment,  of  won- 
der, speculations.  Sometimes  an  indignant  voice 
rose  above  the  others ;  sometimes  a  cynical  laugh. 
Cowperthwaite  heard,  from  behind  him,  hardly 
hushed  voices  speculating,  with  some  relish  and 
amusement,  as  to  how  much  Ward  had  bagged 
by  the  deal. 

"The  other  man  was  conveniently  out  of  the 
room,"  said  a  third  voice,  with  what  he  felt, 
through  every  fiber  of  him,  was  a  jerk  of  some 
man's  chin  in  his  direction.  "I'll  bet  you  they 
are  all  in  the  same  boat.  Of  course.  Mayo  would 
get  them  in  the  end."  An  angry  flash  of  lightning 
made  a  woman  scream;  in  truth,  it  did  seem  to  be 

[225] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

in  the  very  room.  In  the  quiet  that  followed  Judge 
Barnard's  voice  was  heard,  sternly  demanding 
order.  The  wind  rose  while  all  eyes  were  turned 
toward  the  windows,  fascinated  with  expecta- 
tion of  the  violence  that  was  coming.  Men's 
voices  were  stilled  in  apprehension.  Some  started 
for  the  doors.  Judge  Barnard  was  understood  to 
be  dismissing  court  and  announcing  that  the 
prosecution  would  begin  its  argument  on  the 
morrow.  Nobody  was  interested,  for  it  was  ap- 
parent to  all  that.  Holding  dismissed,  no  case 
had  been  made  against  Mayo;  the  arguments 
were  a  mere  matter  of  routine.  With  the  noise 
of  departure,  sharply  questioning  voices  raised 
to  dominate  the  confusion,  eager  demands  for 
cabs  and  taxis,  the  noise  of  the  down-pouring 
rain,  everything  was  tumult  and  confusion.  And 
then  a  deafening  crash  of  thunder  shook  the 
building,  and  after  it  the  rain  itself  seemed  to 
thunder  as  it  crashed  down  in  torrents. 

While  the  crowd  was  still  massed  about  in 
dark  and  brooding  indecision.  Ward  left  his  place 
and  started  to  make  his  way  through  it  to  his 
oflSce  in  the  corridor  opposite.  He  did  not  need 
to  push  himself;  every  one  fell  away  before  his 
approach.  Men  pressed  aside  and  left  an  avenue 
for  him  to  w»ilk  in,  while  they  looked  at  him  with 
eyes  that  were  at  once  curious  and  scornful.    Not 

[226] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

a  man  of  them  all  hailed  him,  nor  did  any  woman 
meet  his  eye  to  claim  acquaintance.  The  dark 
flush  ebbed  away  and  left  his  face  strained  into 
grayness.  They  still  watched  him  as  he  found 
his  office  and  shut  the  door  against  them.  Cow- 
perthwaite  felt  as  he  followed — though  not  be- 
yond that  closed  door — that  the  stigma  had  fallen 
upon  him  also.  With  a  momentary  recurrence 
of  his  curious,  impersonal  detachment  he  remem- 
bered his  query  of  some  weeks  back  as  to  how  far 
the  crowd  would  stand  for  dishonesty.  This  an- 
swered it,  then.  Ward's  treachery  had  reached 
the  point  beyond  which  the  sympathy  of  the 
mob  would  not  go.  Admiration  for  the  clever  liar 
was  a  surface  lightness.  Underneath  was  the 
demand  for  straight  dealing.  When  Cowper- 
thwaite,  too,  had  disappeared,  the  crowd  broke 
into  loud  and  stormy  comment. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

COWPERTHWAITE  had  but  one  thought: 
to  follow  Ward  home  and  denounce  him  for 
his  treachery.  His  own  new-found  love  with  its 
tragedy,  his  old  friendship,  his  just-vowed  sym- 
pathy for  Ken,  and  comprehension  were  all  for- 
gotten or  remembered  only  to  add  new  bitterness 
to  the  rage  of  indignation  that  consumed  him. 
For  now  there  was  no  escaping  the  conviction  of 
Ken's  guilt.  The  almost  personal  shame  of  his 
friend's  betrayal  roused  Cowperthwaite  to  an 
ungovernable  fury. 

"He  has  sold  us  out,  Ken  Ward — the  cur! 
Sold  us  out  to  Mayo!  We'll  be  a  stench  in  the 
nostrils  of  every  straight  man  in  the  town!  And 
the  other  kind  will  laugh  at  us.  Why  did  I  never 
know  that  there  was  that  streak  of  yellow  in  him.^* 
I  could  have  understood  anything  else.  But 
this — when  there  was  no  other  bait  but  money! 
When  Mayo  himself  wouldn't  have  been  guilty 
of  it!  At  least,  he  has  always  been  true  to  his 
friends.  The  chance  of  a  lifetime  to  clean  up 
the  city  lost  because  Mayo  found  that  Ken  Ward 

[228] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

had  liis  price  and  paid  it!  I  ought  to  be  batted 
for  not  having  prevented  it.  But  who  on  earth 
could  have  conceived  it  possible?  Of  course, 
they'll  kick  us  both  out — I  swear  it'll  be  good 
riddance.  But  that  won't  help  matters  now. 
Oh — damn  it  all ! — the  cause!  " 

Cowperthwaite,  plunging  through  the  blinding 
torrents,  dug  his  fingers  into  his  head  and  shook 
it  in  his  despair.  When  he  got  off  the  car  at  the 
Wards'  corner,  he  was  infuriated  to  find  that  the 
hard-wrung  tears  of  rage  were  in  his  eyes. 

At  the  Wards'  house  the  maid  who  admitted 
him  said  that  Mr.  Ward  had  just  gone  to  his 
study.  As  Cowperthwaite  had  long  had  admit- 
tance at  all  hours,  under  all  circumstances,  she 
evidently  expected  him  to  find  his  way  unushered 
so  she  could  get  back  to  her  dinner-table.  The 
door  was  open,  and  Cowperthwaite  walked  in. 

For  a  moment  he  was  halted  by  seeing  Ruth 
there.  It  was  evident  that  Ward  had  just  come 
in;  his  hat  was  thrown  on  the  desk.  But  Cow- 
perthwaite had  little  thought  to  spare  for  Ruth. 

"What  I've  got  to  say  is  for  your  own  ears, 
Ward.  I  think  Mrs.  Ward  would  better  leave 
us." 

WTien  neither  acted  on  his  suggestion,  he 
shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Of  course  you  know  you've  lost  the  case  for 

[229] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

us.  What  did  you  get  from  Mayo  for  selling  us 
out?"  he  demanded,  without  preamble. 

Ward  straightened  himself  with  the  joy  of  the 
coming  fight. 

"I've  not  had  a  red  cent  from  Mayo,"  he  said, 
in  a  hushed  voice.  "But  I'd  knock  you  over  with 
the  greatest  pleasure." 

Ruth,  fefeling  that  Ken  was  being  shamefully 
attacked,  sprang  to  support  him.  She  stood  by 
her  husband's  side,  her  hand  on  his  arm,  facing 
Cowperthwaite. 

Again  neither  man  heeded  her. 

"Well,  then,  how  much  has  Mayo  promised 
you?  "  Cowperthwaite  now  had  the  calm  of  abso- 
lute indignation  in  his  tone. 

Ward  was  throwing  caution  to  the  winds. 
What  did  he  care  how  soon  the  man  knew  what 
he  had  done?  It  was  joy  to  let  his  hate  have 
breathing-space.  But  Ruth's  hot  anger  mas- 
tered her. 

"How  dare  you,  Will  Cowperthwaite?  Ken'* 
— she  turned  to  her  husband  with  pride  in  her 
face — "you  will  know  how  to  answer  a  charge 
like  that.    But  please  make  him  go  now!^* 

Her  husband  gripped  her  arm  until  he  hurt  her. 

"So  you  side  with  me,  after  all!"  he  said,  with 
fierce  exultation.  The  lawless  passion  within 
him  flamed  up.    "After  all,"  it  said,  "I  believe 

[S2301 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

I  care  more — this  way.  You  prize  a  woman 
when  it's  a  fight  to  hold  her!  At  least,  there's 
no  monotony ! "  He  laughed  aloud  at  his  thought 
—an  ugly  laugh.  "Well,  that's  worth  it  all!"  he 
said  to  his  wife.  Everything  had  gone  out  of 
his  face  but  the  triumph  of  the  brute  sense  of 
possession. 

Ruth  shrank  from  him.  Cowperthwaite  broke 
into  her  hurt  wonder. 

"What's  the  use  of  fencing.  Ward.'*"  he  de- 
manded, brusquely.  Ward's  manner  outraged 
all  that  was  fine  in  Cowperthwaite,  and  sym- 
pathy with  Ruth  added  to  his  indignation. 
"The  thing's  clear.  You  sold  us  out.  That 
means,  you've  sold  every  decent  creature  in  the 
city,  betrayed  the  men  that  trusted  you,  made 
it  impossible  for  years  to  come  to  have  anything 
but  viciousness  raise  a  voice.  Oh — "  He 
clenched  his  hands  in  the  despair  of  utterance. 
"I  thought  it  would  be  some  satisfaction  to  shout 
it  all  out  to  you.  But  now  I've  got  here,  I  can't 
think  of  anything  that  seems  to  unload  the  thing 
that's  choking  me.  All  there  is  to  it  is,  you  did 
it!'*  He  walked  a  step  nearer  to  where  Ward 
stood  locked  in  a  fierce  sort  of  control  that  was 
more  hot  than  ranting.  "Have  you  been  that 
sort  all  along,  Ken?     What  made  you  do  it?" 

Ward,  too,  took  a  step  forward.    Ruth  clung 

[  231  ] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

to  his  arm;  she  had  forgotten  everji:hing  but 
the  insult  to  her  husband. 

"Don't  kill  him.  Ken!"  she  said,  in  her  ex- 
ultant confidence.     "He  isn't  worth  it!" 

But  her  husband  barely  heard  her.  He  was 
facing  Cowperthwaite  at  last.  All  of  the  hate  he 
had  been  forced  to  crowd  down  was  rising  until 
the  man  was  beside  himself  with  the  intoxication 
of  its  freedom. 

"And  if  I  did!"  He  was  smiling.  "Of  course 
you  know  the  reason.  No?  Such  innocence! 
The  price  was  large  enough  to  carry  us  away  a 
good  safe  distance — ^far  enough,  in  fact,  to  get 
my  wife  away  from  you  forever!"  For  a  moment 
he  stood  nodding  in  a  sort  of  evil  confidence  at 
the  man  who  had  been  his  friend. 

For  the  moment  Cowperthwaite  was  com- 
pletely puzzled  at  his  manner.  Neither  man 
noticed  that  Ruth  had  fallen  back,  stricken. 
For  the  moment  she  heard  nothing  that  was 
passing. 

"What!"  Cowperthwaite  began,  indignantly, 
but  lowering  his  voice  carefully.  "You  still  be- 
lieve that!  When  I  wrote  you — '*  But  the 
gathered  storm  of  Ward's  hard -held  fury  broke: 

"Do  you  imagine  I'd  read  a  word  from  you 
when  my  wife  had  spoken?  I  tore  up  every 
damned  word  of  it  just  as  I'd  smash  her  name 

[232] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

on  your  lips.  And  now,  what  have  you  the  right 
to  say  about  my  affairs  if  I  had  stolen  the  bread 
from  the  mouths  of  foundlings?  You!  You!  To 
come  here  to  charge  me  with  dishonor!  What 
have  you  done  to  this  house  that  you  have  dared 
to  enter?  You  found  faith,  peace,  love  in  it. 
And  all  three  you — stole!" 

Cowperthwaite  was  stunned  at  his  failure  to 
enlighten  Ward.  He  was  silent  while  he  won- 
dered whether  there  were  any  words  that  would 
serve.  But  a  cry  came  from  Ruth  as  Ken's  mean- 
ing again  stabbed  at  her.  She  stared  at  him  un- 
believingly, with  the  horror  bitten  into  her  white 
face.  Her  husband  saw  it.  He  turned  to  the 
other  man,  accusing  him  of  what  he  saw. 

"You  wouldn't  think  she  had  cheated,  would 
you?  See  her  righteous  horror!  She  is  judging 
me!"  His  voice  broke;  but  he  attacked  Cowper- 
thwaite again  with  added  fury:  "I  had  given  you 
my  friendship.  I  trusted  you  as  one  honest  man 
thinks  he  can  trust  another.  I  bid  you  enter  my 
home  and  met  you  with  my  wife  beside  me. 
And  you  stole!  Whatever  I  have  done — and  I 
contend  I  was  justified  in  doing  anything  to  put 
an  end  to  weeks  like  these  that  I  have  hved 
through — nothing  could  weigh  a  feather  against 
the  thing  you  did.  It  goads  me  almost  past  the 
possibility  of  any  endurance  that  I  should  have 

[233] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

to  hear  you  assume  the  right  to  judge  me,  when 
it's  only  by  my  mercy  that  you  draw  the  breath 
you  use — " 

Ruth's  voice  made  its  way  through  his.  It 
was  hardly  to  be  heard,  and  yet  it  stayed  both 
men.  What  was  in  it  neither  knew,  but  that 
something  demanded  hearing: 

"Do  you  quite  know  what  you  are  saying? 
Will  you  say  clearly  just  what  it  is  with  which 
you  charge  Will  Cowperthwaite  and  myself.'^" 

The  man's  face  was  pitiful  to  see  as  he  turned 
to  meet  hers.  The  concentrated  rage  was  still 
in  it,  but  undermined,  shaken,  with  longing  and 
despair. 

"Why  do  you  force  me — you  know  it  nearly 
kills  me  to  say  the  words — and  you  know  al- 
ready— " 

"Still,  put  it  into  words."  Her  voice  was  ab- 
solutely steady.  It  roused  a  fleeting  anger  against 
her  in  her  husband. 

"Then,  since  you  will  have  it,  I  cannot  even 
be  in  doubt  of  the  very  night  he  stole  you  from 
me." 

Stole ',"  pursued  the  voice.  "  That's  capable 
of  misinterpretation.  This  time  I  want  to  under- 
stand thoroughly.  Do  you  mean  by  it  that  he 
stole  my  'affection'?"  It  was  true  that  a  faint 
smile  strained  her  lips  apart.    "Or  do  you  mean 

[234] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

he  stole  that  one  possession  that  you  men  think 
it  worth  while  to  wrangle  over — my  honor  as  a 
wife,  my — " 

"For  God's  sake!"  broke  in  Cowperthwaite, 
desperately.  But  Ward  pushed  him  aside  with 
a  touch  that  was  a  blow,  and  fronted  her. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  furiously.  "That!  What 
else?" 

She  turned  to  Cowperthwaite. 

"Did  you  know  that  that  was  what  my  hus- 
band understood?"  she  asked.  His  silence  was 
his  answer.    "And  you  have  let  him  think  so?" 

Cowperthwaite  couldn't  speak.  All  at  once 
the  attempts  he  had  made  seemed  pitifully  faint- 
hearted beside  her  need.  He  turned  his  face  away 
from  her  questioning  eyes. 

She  lifted  her  arms  in  despairing  appeal  to 
something.  Then  she  wrapped  her  face  in  them, 
cowering  against  the  wall,  as  far  away  as  she  could 
get  from  them  both — 

"Oh!"  she  cried,  chokingly.    "Oh!— i/en.'" 

The  silence  was  so  absolute  that  both  men 
heard  her  breathing  through  some  minutes.  For 
the  first  time,  too,  the  sound  of  the  pouring  rain 
was  evident.  At  the  end  of  the  time  she  dropped 
her  arms  and  stood  straight,  facing  them  both. 

Her  white  face  was  drained  of  all  the  youth 
that  had  been  in  it.    Her  lips  were  calm;  there 

16  [235] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

was  not  even  bitterness  in  them.  Her  face  was 
drawn  into  the  inexorable  lines  of  justice.  It  was 
only  the  intolerable  cold  brightness  of  her  eyes 
that  was  alive.  Her  close-massed  hair  was  a 
dull  bronze  helmet.  And  to  her  husband  the 
truth  of  her  innocence  could  not  have  been  more 
fixed  had  she  had  the  revelation  of  an  archangel 
to  proclaim  it. 

At  the  knowledge  the  unclean  spirit  went  out 
of  him.  She  did  not  hear  the  groan  with  which 
he  turned  away.  Her  eyes  first  went  to  Cowper- 
thwaite. 

"Now — I  think  there  is  no  more  harm  you 
can  do;  yoiu*  work  here  is  finished.    You  can 

go." 

Her  tone  was  quiet,  almost  courteous.  The 
scene  had  snatched  all  of  Cowperthwaite's  indig- 
nation against  Ward  from  him.  He  didn't  dare 
to  look  at  her;  he  couldn't  meet  Ken's  eyes.  Any 
attempt  to  explain  his  own  action  at  this  moment 
would  be  an  impertinent  intrusion.  The  issue 
was  between  Ruth  and  her  husband.  Ruth 
watched  the  man  while  he  caught  up  his  hat  and 
went  out  through  the  open  door. 

She  turned  toward  her  husband. 

"How  far  are  you  committed  to  Mayo?" 

He  answered  automatically: 

"Not  at  all  as  to  words  or  writing.    I  haven't 

[236] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

had  anything  from  him.  I  was  beginning  to  earn 
it.    I  was  ready.'* 

She  nodded. 

*'I  don't  know,  of  course,  just  what  happened 
to-day.  But  I  feel  sure  you  can  pull  yourself 
together  again.    You'll  atone." 

If  he  hadn't  known  her  so  well  he  might  have 
drawn  some  hope  from  her  strong  belief  in  him. 
But  he  couldn't  move  a  step  toward  her.  Her 
anxious  conscientiousness  struck  him  with  fore- 
boding.    He  listened. 

"I  have  known  for  a  long  time  something  was 
coming.  I  have  tried  to  watch  and  do  what  I 
could.  But  I  couldn't  understand  what  was  the 
matter.  Once  I  had  a  passing  fear  that  it  was 
this.  But  it  seemed  too  monstrous — I  couldn't 
believe  it  of  you — I  put  the  thought  out  of  my 
mind.  Sometimes  I  was  convinced  you  were 
going  to  be  ill,  some  nervous  breakdown.  There 
has  not  been  a  day  that  I  have  not  started  at 
every  ring  of  the  bell.  I  didn't  know  what  I 
feared.  Sometimes  I  was  afraid  it  was  your 
mind — I  didn't  know  what  to  expect,  but  I  knew 
some  day  there  was  going  to  be  a  crash.  And  I 
want  you  to  know  that  I  was  ready  to  be  loyal 
to  you  through  everything — nurse  you,  feed  you, 
if  necessary,  be  mind  for  you  if  yours  went. 
*  Ready'?     There  wasn't  even  the  question.     I 

[237] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

was  almost  joyous  at  the  thought  that  the  time 
was  coming  when  you  would  need  me  absolutely. 
It — it  would  be  lovely  to  have  something  to  take 
care  of.  Even  to-day,  by  the  time  I  had  under- 
stood what  you  had  done,  I  had  already  planned 
a  lifetime  with  you  under  the  shadow  of  it,  help- 
ing you  struggle  through  to  the  top  again  in 
spite  of  it.  There  is  nothing  I  could  not  have 
forgiven.    Nothing  except  this." 

Ward  drew  a  long  breath.  He  loosened  his 
collar  as  if  it  strangled  him. 

"It  wasn't  so  much  that  you  could  have 
thought  me  guilty."  Still  there  was  no  feeling  in 
her  manner  other  than  that  desire  to  state  each 
thought  in  her  mind  most  clearly.  "Although  once 
I  would  have  thought  that  that  would  be  the  un- 
forgivable thing.  But  I  can  be  reasonable.  I 
can  see,  in  looking  back  over  it,  that  you  didn't 
believe  it  until  my  own  words  had  convinced  you. 
I  never  dreamed,  of  course,  that  it  was  in  the 
range  of  possibility.  It  was  so  completely  un- 
thinkable; words  seem  to  mean  such  different 
things — I  was  just  dull  and  stupid.  Do  you  want 
to  know  what  it  was  all  about?"  He  shook  his 
head.  Still  she  insisted.  "It  was  a  silly  kiss. 
He  lost  his  head  a  minute — we  had  been  talking 
of  old  times.  And  I  was  so  outraged  over  it." 
She  smiled  a  little  pityingly.  ,  "I  remember  that 

[238] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

I  made  an  awful  fuss.  That  must  have  been  in 
my  mind — I  have  almost  forgotten  how  it  hap- 
pened. But  that  must  have  been  why  you 
understood — " 

She  looked  with  some  surprise  at  the  pain  in 
his  face.  Then,  obediently,  she  left  the  subject. 
"It  wasn't  that  so  much.  At  least,  the  other 
thing  is  so  much  greater."  She  took  up  her  task 
again,  her  blue  eyes,  starry  and  wonderful  and 
true,  on  him,  their  beauty  a  fresh  wound. 

"When  I  gave  myself  to  you.  Ken,  I  gave  my- 
self in  all  completeness — ^heart,  soul,  body — all 
for  you,  to  mate  with  yours.  The  inviolate  faith 
and  love  between  us  was  my  shelter.  It  was  the 
ring  of  fire  about  us,  made  rapture  holy.  I  could 
give  myself  because  you  gave  the  highest.  Wom- 
en like  me  don't  give  themselves  for  less.  Now 
— oh! — cant  you  understand? — with  one  link  in 
our  sanctuary  chain  broken  life  with  you  is  a 
horror.  There  may  be  women  that  can  endure 
that.    But  not  I!" 

She  turned  on  him  in  accusing  passion.  All 
her  face  flashed  into  splendor.  Lips  were  red 
now,  a  fierce  red,  her  eyes  burned,  as  she  moved 
her  head  the  red  gold  in  her  hair  sent  out  gleams. 

"What  have  you  made  of  me,  Ken  Ward? 
It  would  have  been  decent  to  have  killed  or  left 

[239] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

me.  But  to  keep  me  with  that  shame  between 
us!  What  have  you  done  to  our  love  that  was 
so  beautiful?  What  have  you  done  to  every 
hour  of  joy  that  was  between  us?  You  have  made 
a  shame  of  every  kiss  I  gave  you!  And  I  can't 
bear  being  shamed!  I  can't!  I  can't!  You 
have  sinned  against  the  faith  I  gave  you!  You 
have  desecrated  every  still  thought  of  worship 
that  I've  held  for  you!  I've  lived  beside  you 
all  these  weeks  when  the  holy  thing  had  gone 
out  of  your  love  for  me — ^I've  lived  with  you. 
What  have  you  made  of  me.  Ken  Ward?  What's 
the  naTTie  you  men  brand  women  with  when 
you've  made  us  what  you  want?  That's  what 
you've  done  to  me.  And  I'll  never  forgive  it — 
never!  You  have  cheated  me  into  being  un- 
clean!    I  couldn't  forgive  you  if  I  wanted  to!" 

She  struck  herself  fiercely  across  her  breast. 
And  then,  for  the  first  time,  her  cruel  passion 
broke.  She  threw  herself  down  by  Ken's  big 
chair,  buried  her  head  and  shoulders  on  the 
deep,  kind  arm  of  it,  and  broke  into  frantic 
weeping  that  tore  her  from  head  to  foot  with  the 
birth  of  every  strangled  sob. 

That  was  too  much  for  endurance.  Ward 
bent  over  her,  trying  to  raise  her,  with  murmurs 
of  heartbroken  tenderness,  forgetting  every- 
thing but  the  need  of  giving  her  comfort.     She 

[240] 


^-^  .!>,-=- 


SHE   CRIED   OUT   AND   SHIVERED   AWAY   FROM  HIS  TOUCH 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

cried  out  and  shivered  away  from  his  touch. 
Then  Ward  was  constrained  to  let  her  be,  look- 
ing at  his  big  arms  wonderingly,  understanding 
dimly  that  the  very  kind  strength  of  them  that 
longed  to  serve  her  he  had  somehow  made  an 
insult  of,  to  brand  her  again  with  her  shame. 
And  the  unsatisfied  craving  of  his  desire  to  help 
her  turned  into  an  eating  poison  that  seemed  to 
worm  its  way,  with  agony  unthinkable,  into  that 
place  where  his  heart  beat  in  dull  suffering, 
but  unalterably,  for  her.  So  he  folded  his  arms 
across  his  great  chest  and  waited,  holding  down 
his  longing  with  dogged  patience,  until  she  should, 
of  her  own  unaided  strength,  recover  herself 
and  tell  him  what  was  to  be. 

It  was  not  so  very  long  before  the  moment 
came.  She  struggled  to  her  feet,  turned  from 
him  while  she  dried  her  eyes — that  hurt  him 
more  than  all  her  wild  words  put  together. 
Then  she  was  calm  again  and  more  still  than 
ever. 

"There  is  only  one  thing  to  do.  I  can't  have 
the  best,  so  I'll  have  nothing.  I  am  going  home 
to  my  own  people — " 

He  sprang  forward.  It  was  the  great,  pas- 
sionate onrush  of  all  his  being. 

"You  shall  not!"  he  said,  between  his  teeth. 
Then  he  saw  the  look  in  her  eyes.     He  stopped, 

[241] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

forced  all  the  gigantic  male  rebellion  in  him  into 
subjection.  The  pause  was  a  short  one.  But 
in  it  the  new  man  was  born.  The  sweat  came  out 
on  his  forehead  as  he  said: 

"I  have  lost  the  right  to  forbid  you.'* 

Then  a  tinge  of  color  came  into  her  face,  and 
she  said,  proudly: 

"That  was  splendid  of  you,  Ken.  You  were 
always  big." 

He  was  moved  to  a  moment's  hopefulness: 

"Haven't  you  any  mercy  for  me,  Ruth?" 

She  was  remote  from  him  again. 

"I  don't  think  you  want  my  mercy.  I  can 
think  of  one  thing  at  a  time  only.  And  now, 
it's  odd  to  realize  that  the  one  thing  isn't  you. 
It's  myself  now.  I'm  going  to  belong  to  my- 
self." 

After  that  she  did  not  once  look  at  him  where 
he  stood,  immovable,  while  she  walked  to  the 
door,  and  so  up  the  stairs  to  her  own  room. 
There  was  the  sound  of  light  footsteps  stirring 
hastily  while  Ward  waited  and  listened,  with 
every  beat  of  his  heart  suspended,  it  seemed. 
At  last  he  heard  the  footsteps  returning,  down 
the  stairs,  to  the  hall  outside.  A  pause — then 
she  entered.  She  was  dressed  for  the  street, 
and  carried  a  hand-bag. 

"Good-by,  Ken.     I'm  going."     She  faced  him 

[242] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

with  that  wonderful  composure.  He  had  be- 
come as  quiet.     He  held  her  with  his  eyes. 

"Whatever  you  do —  You  kn(tvv  me,  I'm 
unchangeable."  She  bowed  her  head  and  turned 
to  go. 

Her  husband  passed  her  with  a  low  "Pardon," 
and  opened  the  inner  door  for  her — the  outer 
door.     He  held  it  open  while  she  went  by  him.  , 


CHAPTER  XXn 

"/^OME  out  of  the  crowd,  Ken.  Wilson  can 
^— ^  attend  to  everything  necessary  now,"  said 
Cowperthwaite,  suddenly.  "  You're  pretty  much 
all  in."  He  had  been  watching  the  other  man's 
face  for  half  an  hour  before  the  verdict  was 
announced,  and  the  evidences  of  exhaustion 
alarmed  him.  A  certain  sensitiveness  to  the 
moods  of  others  was  growing  on  Cowperthwaite. 
With  his  arm  around  Ward's  shoulder  he  drew 
him  across  the  corridor  and  into  the  oflSce- 
room. 

Ward  threw  himself  on  the  leather-covered 
couch  and  closed  his  eyes.  For  a  time  neither 
man  spoke.  Past  the  door  streamed  the  noise 
that  was  testimony  to  the  size  and  excitement 
of  the  dispersing  crowd.  They  both  found  them- 
selves curiously  indifferent  to  it.  Cowperthwaite 
was  thinking  that  it  was  the  first  time  of  their 
lifelong  acquaintance  that  he  ever  remembered 
to  have  seen  Ken  voluntarily  inactive.  During 
the  almost  unendurable  heat  of  the  summer  re- 
cess  and  €he  October  days  of  Mayo's  second 

[2441 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

trial  his  exertions  had  seemed  superhuman. 
Now  he  was  beginning  to  show  the  effect  of  it. 
He  had  lost  much  weight,  particularly  during 
the  last  week.  His  large  features  stood  out  with 
startling  strength.  They  were  gaunt  and  power- 
ful; the  unalterable  purpose  in  them  seemed  al- 
most a  magnetic  force. 

"It's  been  a  great  day  for  you.  Ken,"  Cowper- 
thwaite  said.  He  pulled  a  chair  nearer  and  sat 
companionably  by  his  friend.  Since  Ward  had 
called  Cowperthwaite  to  him,  not  many  hours 
after  Ruth  had  left,  and  they  had  begun  their 
campaign  to  undo  what  Ward  had  done,  the 
tie  between  the  two  men  had  been  incompara- 
bly stronger  than  ever.  There  were  moments  in 
the  self-revelation  that  each  man  had  made  of 
himself  to  his  friend  that  had  established  that 
time  forever  as  one  of  the  great  epochs  by  which 
men  shape  their  lives.  Cowperthwaite  was 
thinking  of  the  long  struggle  they  had  lived 
through  together.  "I'll  admit  now,"  he  said, 
comfortably,  "that  I  never  imagined  it  possible 
that  you  could  win." 

"There  never  was  any  question  of  its  being 
*  possible.'  It  was  my  one  chance  to  make  good, 
and  I  had  to  do  it."  Ward  turned  his  head 
away  and  added,  in  a  half -stifled  voice,  "I  am 
sure  Ruth  expected  me  to." 

[iW5] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

Cowperthwaite  held  silence  for  a  minute,  and 
then  he  said,  hesitatingly: 

"I  beg  your  pardon  for  speaking  of  it.  Ward. 
You  can  put  me  to  the  door  if  you  like,  but — 
have  you  had  any  word  from  her?" 

Ward  shook  his  head  stolidly. 

"No,  nor  will  I.     It's  final." 

Cowperthwaite  showed  his  wretchedness. 

"I  hate  myself  for  the  part  I  played  in  it," 
he  said,  in  a  low  voice.  "I  don't  see  how  you 
can  tolerate  me." 

"Oh,  as  for  that" — Ward  spoke  with  a  sort 
of  grim  indulgence — "there  was  precious  little 
to  choose  between  us.  I  don't  feel  qualified  to 
throw  stones.  And  there's  no  use  making  the 
world  a  more  uninhabitable  place  than  it  already 
is."  His  tone  was  the  reverse  of  emotional. 
But  he  put  out  a  big,  tired  hand  and  gripped 
Cowperthwaite's.  "We'll  hang  together  after 
this." 

There  was  a  period  of  silence  while  the  loud 
tide  of  enthusiasm,  fury,  congratulation  on  the 
other  side  of  the  door  passed  them  by. 

"All  the  same,"  Cowperthwaite  said,  finally, 
"it  seems  to  me  that  you've  done  the  super- 
human thing." 

"I'd  ha»ve  gone  mad  if  I  hadn't  been  able  to 
work  like  the  devil,"  was  Ward's  only  reply. 

[246] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

He  lapsed  into  a  long  silence.  But  thought  was 
busy  in  him.  He  moved  his  head  uneasily, 
and  finally  turned  on  his  side  to  face  Cowper- 
thwaite.  "I  take  it,  Will" — his  wearied  voice 
had  taken  on  some  tone  with  his  earnestness — 
"that  the  oflSce  of  fellows  like  me,  that  have  cast 
for  their  stake  of  personal  happiness  and  lost, 
is  to  lead  the  forlorn  hope,  take  the  desperate 
chance.  The  world  can't  stop  us.  We're  the 
preordained  workers — for  good  or  bad,  the 
worker-bees  of  the  hive — " 

"What's  the  use  of  talking  like  that.  Ken?" 
Cowperthwaite  was  rebellious.  "You  haven't 
lost  her.  This  is  just  a  temporary  phase.  She'll 
come  back.  Why,  man,  she  loves  you  so  ab- 
solutely that  nothing  could  hold  her  away,  once 
the  first  shock  has  passed — " 

"No,  you're  right;  nothing  could  hold  her 
away,"  W^^rd  broke  in  with  a  slow  smile;  "noth- 
ing but  herself.  No,  I  tell  you,  something's 
shattered.  It  would  take  the  impossible  to 
bring  her,  something  that  would  change  her 
whole  point  of  view.  And  I  swear,  as  heavily 
as  it  bears  on  me,  I'm  proud  of  her  steadfastness." 
The  forced  cheerfulness  of  Ward's  face  made 
Cowperthwaite  frown  with  the  fear  that  he  him- 
self was  going  to  feel  too  much  emotion.  "But, 
there!     I  didn't  mean  to  go  off  on  that  tack. 

[2471 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

I  was  just  trj'-ing  to  make  my  own  position  clear. 
I  must  be  a  broken  reed,  all  right.  For  when  I 
thought  ill  of  her,  my  belief  in  every  form  of 
goodness  went.  And  now  that  I  know  her  as 
she  is,  the  moral  balance  is  restored.  That's  all. 
And  I  don't  know  but  I'm  the  happier,  after 
all.  She's  gone.  But  my  knowledge  of  her  is 
here^  right  with  me  every  minute.  And  the 
certainty  of  her  upright  standards,  the  hope 
that  she  believes  that  I  can  make  good  again — 
for  she  did  believe  it — is  the  power  that  moves 
me.  I  can  feel  it  in  every  step,  the  knowledge 
that  I  can't  fail.  How  can  I  fail  when  there, 
at  least,  she's  with  me.'* — ^the  pillar  of  cloud  and 
fire  before  me.  I  had  my  experience  of  the  other 
side,  having  her,  when  my  belief  in  her  was  gone. 
It  was  as  near  an  approach  to  hell  as  I  want. 
I'd  rather  want  her  every  instant  and  know  her 
as  she  is!  It's  a  desolate  enough  world  I  was 
bom  into  that  night  she  left  me,  but  I  swear  it's  a 
cleaner  one.  And  I  have  a  suspicion  that  it's 
all  making  something  of  me."  His  face  glowed 
for  a  moment,  and  then  the  exaltation  of  the 
mood  dropped  from  him.  He  jumped  up  and 
paced  the  room  desperately.  "  What  rot  I'm  talk- 
ing!"  he  groaned.  "The  cost,  man! — the  cost!" 
Cowperthwaite  got  hold  of  him  and  pulled 
him  down  again. 

I248J 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"Oh,  resU  confound  you!"  he  said,  earnestly. 
"Haven't  you  got  sense  enough  to  know  when 
you're  tired?  You  know  that  doctor  that  comes 
down  to  the  club  told  you  to  go  straight  home 
after  court  to-day,  didn't  he?  This  isn't  quite 
the  end,  you  know;  we  have  some  more  little 
jobs  ahead  of  us."  He  had  got  Ward  on  the 
couch  again.  "Of  course,  Mayo's  entered  a 
plea  for  an  appeal  by  this  time.  I  suppose 
Judge  Barnard  will  have  to  grant  it." 

Ward  nodded  indifferently. 

"Yes,  they'll  know  how  to  put  it  up  to 
him  so  he  can't  refuse.  Of  course.  Mayo  '11  be 
admitted  to  bail,  and  I  doubt  if  he  ever  gets 
within  a  hundred  miles  of  the  penitentiary. 
Convicting  him  has  done  the  job  for  the  city, 
all  the  same.  And  by  the  time  we  get  hold  of 
some  of  the  others — "  His  voice  ended  with  a 
tired  sigh. 

"Oh,  rest,  you  heathen,  you,"  said  Cowper- 
thwaite,  heartily,  his  cheerfulness  heightened  by 
the  reassurance  as  to  the  fate  of  Claire's  father. 

He  pulled  the  proof  of  a  brief  toward  him 
and  went  to  work  in  ostentatious  silence.  Ward 
smiled  slightly,  and  shut  his  eyes  again  to  lessen 
the  confusing  sensation  of  pressure  in  his  head. 
But  Cowperthwaite  broke  his  own  injunction 
by  bursting  out: 

[249] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"I'm  still  lost  in  wonder  over  Remsen.  When 
we  swore  out  the  second  indictment  in  the  Gar- 
vin case  on  the  plea  of  new  evidence  I  shook  in 
my  shoes;  I  don't  see  how  you  ever  frightened 
him  into  telling  the  whole  story.  When  we 
caught  him  at  the  boat  I  couldn't  find  a  trace  of 
anything  to  appeal  to  in  him.  How  did  you 
ever  get  hold  of  him.'*  I  don't  believe  Remsen 
ever  did  a  hand's  turn  in  his  life  before  but  for 
a  price.'* 

Ward's  face  became  more  grim. 

"I  don't  advise  you  to  learn  how  to  deal  with 
Remsen's  like  as  I  did.  It  was  nothing  but  that 
I  had  been  wallowing  in  the  mud  he  was  used  to. 
I  knew  how  it  felt.  I  had  touched  bottom. 
And,  judging  like  by  like,  I  inferred  that  he  wasn't 
particularly  happy  being  despatched  like  con- 
traband goods  from  port  to  port.  You  know 
a  man  out  of  the  struggles  of  your  own  soul. 
Anyway,  it  turned  out  that  Remsen  had  his 
unexpected  Achilles-heel  of  righteousness.  And 
the  hell  that  I'd  been  in  at  least  told  me  how  to 
aim  for  it.     Moreover,  it  had  to  be  done." 

The  door  opened,  and  Mayo  came  in  with 
his  senior  counsel. 

The  lawyer  made  his  way  toward  Ward,  who 
sat  up  dazedly  in  the  attempt  to  give  his  atten- 
tion to  his  question.     Mayo   was   left  a   little 

[250] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

apart.     Cowperthwaite  and  he  were  far  enough 
from  the  others  to  be  out  of  ear-shot. 

In  the  surprise  of  the  moment  the  Big  Man's 
presence  meant  one  thing  only  to  Cowperthwaite 
— Claire.  All  of  his  painful  passion  of  concern, 
only  half  subdued  by  the  excitement  of  their 
victorious  day  and  by  fellowship  with  Ward, 
boiled  up.  The  man  who  stood  there,  looking 
tranquilly  at  him,  was  no  longer  the  civic  menace 
they  had  been  fighting.  Cowperthwaite's  work 
there  was  done.  Now  he  could  think  of  Mayo 
as  the  father  of  the  girl  he  loved.  Mayo's  bear- 
ing only  made  the  impression  stronger.  The 
man,  it  is  true,  lacked  his  florid  color.  But  he 
was  certainly  neither  crushed  nor  shamed. 
The  smile  with  which  he  met  Cowperthwaite's 
gaze  was  even  a  little  quizzical. 

"Where  is  she.'*"  Cowperthwaite  had  asked 
the  question  before  he  knew  he  was  going  to 
speak.  And  Mayo  was  evidently  in  no  doubt 
whom  he  meant.  For  he  answered,  with  some 
amusement : 

"Home,  I  hope.  I  sent  her  off  some  time 
ago." 

The  maddest  impulse  mounted  to  the  law- 
yer's brain.  The  thought  of  Claire  as  she  might 
be  if  Mayo  were  unable  to  ward  off  punishment 
alone,  with  no  one  to  shield  her,  was  of  such 

17  12511 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

mighty  import  that  it  drove  out  every  other 
consideration.  What  difference  did  it  make  what 
Mayo  was,  or  that  he  himself  had  had  all  his 
energies  engaged  in  trying  to  jail  him.  Nothing 
but  the  human  relationship  stood.  He  was 
Claire's  father,  and  Cowperthwaite  was  just 
beginning  to  realize  how  much  he  loved  her. 

"I  want  to — to  care  for  her.  Can  I  have  her.? 
I  love  her!"  he  had  stammered  out,  before  he 
recognized  the  enormity  of  such  a  plea  at  such 
a  time. 

But  there  was  nothing  to  show  that  Mayo  was 
unprepared.  He  stood  for  some  minutes  in 
silence,  looking  searchingly  at  Cowperthwaite. 
The  younger  man  felt  that  he  was  being  weighed, 
analyzed,  his  depths  sounded. 

"No,"  Mayo  said,  with  final  curtness.  And 
Cowperthwaite  felt,  before  he  was  conscious 
of  any  other  emotion,  a  sharp  twinge  of  chagrin 
that  he  had  been  found  wanting. 

Then  he  realized  the  absurdity  of  expecting 
Mayo  to  say  anything  else. 

"Of  course  I  recognize  it  must  seem  the 
height  of  folly  to  expect  you — " 

The  Big  Man  interrupted: 

"I  don't  give  a"  —  he  hesitated,  with  his 
chronic  d^flSculty  to  find  a  strong  enough  ex- 
pression  that  should  yet  not  be  profane — "I 

[262] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

don't  give  a  red-headed  monkey  about  your 
being  on  the  other  side  from  me,  you  know.  That 
isn't  the  difficulty.  Events  haven't  led  me  to  be 
so  cock-sure  of  my  own  side."  He  smiled  rue- 
fully, but  with  disarming  frankness.  "Lyman's 
disloyalty  hasn't  altogether  convinced  me  that 
we've  always  got  the  best  kind  of  men  in  our  own 
lines." 

Cowperthwaite  gasped  with  the  glimpse  of 
hope  that  came  to  him: 

"Well,  then."  He  had  begun  when  Mayo 
silenced  him. 

"And,  although  I'm  in  no  fear  of  the  peniten- 
tiary, I  wouldn't  be  sorry  to  have  my  httle  girl 
tucked  away  in  some  safe  corner  in  case  anything 
did  happen  to  me.  We're  pretty  much  alone  in 
the  world,  she  and  I.  I  believe  you  love  her. 
And  I  think  she's  not  averse  to  you.  Oh,  I've 
had  my  eyes  open !  I'd  like  to  know  she  was  safe 
with  an  honest  man — as  Lyman  isn't.  You  saw 
what  a — a — "  This  time  the  struggle  for  ade- 
quate expression  was  a  desperate  one.  But  a 
recollection  of  his  bucolic  boyhood  came  to  his 
relief.  "You  saw  what  a  perniciously  active 
skunk  of  a  turncoat  he  is!" 

"He  began  to  trim  the  minute  Ward  shook 
the  *  perjury'  bogy  at  him!  That's  made  me 
think.     I  beUeve  I'd  give  her  to  you,  and  let 

[253] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

people  scrape  their  throats  talking  about  it,  if 
it  wasn't  for  one  thing.  I  won't  give  her  to  any 
man  who  can't  show  a  clean  life."  He  fixed  his 
terribly  penetrating  blue  eyes  on  Cowperthwaite. 
They  bored  down  to  his  soul.  Dazed,  half  com- 
prehending as  he  was,  Cowperthwaite  thought 
just  once  that  it  was  lucky  he  hadn't  anything 
particularly  black  on  his  conscience. 

"But  there's  that  matter  of  Ward's  wife 
agaiust  you." 

"Don't  say  a  word  against  her."  Cowper- 
thwaite forgot  that  he  had  a  personal  stake.  He 
was  indignant  at  the  man's  assailing  a  woman. 
"  She's  the  most  innocent  and  the  most  upright  and 
the  finest  woman!"  he  had  said,  hotly,  when  the 
nonplussed  expression  on  Mayo's  face  struck  him. 

"You  look  mighty  honest,"  the  Big  Man 
mused.  "But  of  course  you'd  have  to  deny  it. 
You'd  deny  it  if  you  were  only  a  gentleman  and 
shielding  her^  or  if  you  were  guilty  and  shielding 
yourself.  You'd  say  that  if  you  were  innocent 
or  if  you  were  a  light-minded  Johnny  with  hu- 
morous views  of  the  Ten  Commandments.  If 
my  suspicions  are  true,  you're  bound,  all  the 
more,  to  lie  convincingly — and  you'd  deserve  to 
be  horsewhipped  if  you  wouldn't.  You  must 
admit  I'm  up  against  it —  No,  the  only  guide  to 
follow  in  sucTi  a  case  is  your  own  observation  and 

[254] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

your  own  judgment.  I've  been  watching  Ward, 
of  course.  That's  my  job.  I've  seen  this  enmity 
between  you.  You  let  something  drop  once.  I 
have  drawn  my  own  conclusions.  And  this 
matter  of  Ward  and  his  wife  having  separated 
only  confirms  it.  No,  you  can't  have  my  little 
girl  when  you  have  that  stain  on  you.  She  shall 
have  nothing  but  the  best." 

Cowperthwaite  drew  a  long  breath.  He  recog- 
nized the  difficulty  of  the  situation.  And  that 
his  own  fault  had  created  it  made  him  none  the 
more  inclined  to  accept  it  patiently. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  for  a  mere  suspi- 
cion, a  suspicion  that  I  give  you  my  word  is  ab- 
solutely without  foundation,  and  for  no  other 
reason  whatever,  you  refuse  your  daughter  to 
me?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mayo,  baldly.    "Just  that." 


CHAPTER  XXm 

rriHE  two  visitors  had  gone,  and  Ward  had 
-■■  thrown  himself  down  on  the  couch  again 
with  the  hmpness  of  exhaustion,  when  a  messenger 
boy  brought  a  note.  It  was  for  Cowperthwaite, 
and  Ward  motioned  the  boy  to  where  his  friend 
sat,  lost  in  somber  thought.  Cowperthwaite  read 
it  indifferently,  and  then  flipped  it  into  the  waste- 
basket.  Ward  was  roused  by  the  noise  the  boy 
made  in  closing  the  door,  and  turned  to  see 
Cowperthwaite  reaching  for  his  hat. 

"What's  up?"  Ken  asked,  languidly. 

*'0h — just  Reynolds,  who  wants  to  see  me  at 
the  club.  Says  he'll  be  there  at  four;  I've  hardly 
time  to  get  there." 

"I'll  go  with  you,"  said  Ward,  pulhng  himself 
together  and  struggling  up  from  the  couch.  "I 
want  to  ask  Reynolds  a  question — ought  to  know 
what  he  thinks  about  it  to-day." 

"You  ought  to  rest.  Ken,"  Cowperthwaite  pro- 
tested. But  when  Ward  insisted  rather  irritably, 
his  friend  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  resignation 

[256] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

and  led  the  way  through  the  now  almost  empty 
corridor  to  where  his  motor  waited. 

Two  other  men  besides  Reynolds  were  in  the 
card-room  at  the  Civic  Club,  and  they  all  three 
wore  rather  exceptionally  serious  faces.  Reynolds 
had  always  been  one  of  Cowperthwaite's  closest 
friends.  When  he  saw  Ward's  big  figure  behind 
Cowperthwaite  Reynolds  objected  immediately. 

"This  matter  concerns  Mr.  Cowperthwaite 
only,"  he  said,  quickly.  "We  must  ask  Mr. Ward 
to  let  us  thrash  the  matter  out  without  him." 

But  Ward  made  no  move;  something  made  him 
feel  that  Cowperthwaite  was  under  fire. 

"Has  this  anything  to  do  with  the  cases?"  he 
asked. 

"Yes,  it  has,"  answered  Reynolds,  shortly. 

"Then  I  think  I  ought  to  be  included.  Mr. 
Cowperthwaite  and  I  have  been  acting  in  entire 
harmony — " 

"Are  you  quite  sure  of  that?"  asked  Fille- 
brown,  the  second  man,  with  some  careless 
amusement  in  his  tone. 

"That  statement  is  correct,  as  to  recent  events 
at  least,"  Ward  replied  to  him,  imperturbably. 
"Since  the  time  when  I  had  some  informal  con- 
versation with  various  gentlemen  of  your  organ- 
ization relative  to  my  action  in  the  trial,  it  is 
absolutely  correct.    At  that  interview  I  think  I 

[2571 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

remember  I  was  requested  to  consult  the  asso- 
ciate counsel  more  constantly  with  regard  to  the 
policy  of  the  prosecution.  I  was  given  to  under- 
stand that  you  unqualifiedly  indorsed  him.  I 
have  followed  those  suggestions.  Therefore,  if 
you  are  now  inclined  to  criticize  him  at  any  point, 
I  assuredly  am  responsible  with  him.  I  ask  to 
be  allowed  to  reply,  with  him,  to  any  charges 
you  may  have  to  make." 

Ward  stood  his  ground  in  such  perfect  assur- 
ance that  he  would  have  his  way  that,  after  some 
hesitation  among  the  gentlemen,  he  was  allowed 
to  stay. 

"Now,  may  I  ask  what  charge  has  been  made 
against  me.'^"  Cowperthwaite  demanded,  with 
his  convincingly  straight  gaze. 

"It  can  hardly  be  called  a  'charge,'  Mr. 
Cowperthwaite."  Reynolds  smiled  at  him  in 
anxious  friendliness.  "It's  only  that,  having 
insisted  on  your  being  associated  in  these  cases, 
we  are  naturally  sensitive  to  any  criticism  of  you. 
It  may  be  that  there  has  been  a  mistake  in  iden- 
tity. And,  in  any  case,  it  is  a  point  that  you 
will  doubtless  be  able  to  explain  to  our  entire 
satisfaction.  In  fact,  it  is  only  by  implication 
that  it  is  of  importance — " 

"May  I  ask  what  this  much-introduced  in- 
cident is?"  Cowperthwaite  asked,  smilingly. 

[258] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"In  last  June — on  the  28th,  wasn't  it,  Fille- 
brown? — ^you  were  seen  coming  out  of  Mr. 
Mayo's   house   in   the  afternoon." 

Cowperthwaite  started  violently.  The  im- 
plication of  the  challenge  was  lost  to  him  for  the 
moment  in  the  disarming  wave  of  emotion  at  the 
recollection  of  that  day,  which  still  stood  alone 
in  his  memory;  he  was  again  himself  at  flood- 
tide.  How  bitter  had  been  the  daily  struggles 
since  then,  when  he  had  downed  his  craving  to 
follow  that  same  path  only  by  stem  insistence 
on  the  indecency  of  his  troubling  her!  He 
looked  at  these  men  who  awaited  his  answer; 
the  expectation,  varied  in  each  face,  that  he 
could  explain  the  motive  of  his  manifestly  com- 
promising visit  greeted  him.  Ward's  surprise 
had  been  evident  only  for  a  moment;  his  con- 
fident assurance  would  have  given  strength  to 
a  weaker  man  than  Cowperthwaite.  "Good 
old  Ken!"  thought  his  friend,  still  too  full  of 
emotion  to  feel  that  this  inquisition  had  any 
serious  bearing.  So  the  cheerful  tone  with  which 
he  spoke  must  have  seemed  dangerously  near 
bravado: 

"I  did  call  at  Mr.JMayo's  residence  at  the  date 
you  mention." 

"I  am  afraid  we  must  ask  for  an  explanation 
of  your  motive."     Reynolds's  tone  was  a  little 

[259] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

sharper.  "I  did  not  know  that  you  and  Mr. 
Mayo  had  been  personal  friends." 

"We  are  not.  I  went  to  see  his  daughter." 
Cowperthwaite's  head  was  high.  "And — with 
her  permission — I  shall  go  again!" 

There  was  a  stir  among  his  auditors. 

"Did  it  not  occur  to  you  that  any  social  re- 
lation with  the  family  of  the  man  whom  we  had 
employed  you  to  prosecute  was  in  distinctly 
bad  taste .f^"     Reynolds's  tone  had  become  severe. 

"I  cannot  say  that,  at  that  moment,  I  had 
considered  that  phase  of  the  matter,"  Cowper- 
thwaite  answered,  smiling. 

"You  surely  could  not  fail  to  see  that  your 
action  would  give  rise  to  the  gravest  suspicions, 
especially  since,  at  that  time,  you  had  been  a 
mere  figure-head  in  the  prosecution." 

"I  might  assume  that  my  friends  would  give 
me  credit  for  a  principle  or  so."  Cowperthwaite 
stUl  smiled,  but  his  level  gaze  at  Reynolds  was 
disconcerting. 

"Don't  you  understand  the  position  you  are 
putting  yourself  into,  Mr.  Cowperthwaite?" 
put  in  Fillebrown,  testily.  "We  haven't  any 
business  with  convictions  as  to  a  man's  honesty 
here.  We  have  to  look  for  a  man  who  will 
secure  certain  results.  We  can't  feel  full  con- 
fidence in  you.     And  we  can't  employ  a  man  in 

[2601 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

whom  we  haven't  full  confidence,  especially 
in  a  matter  of  this  kind,  where  every  man  con- 
cerned has  got  to  be  subjected  to  the  severest 
scrutiny  from  all  those  aflfiliated  with  Mayo's 
machine.  Why,  man,  if  they  can  pick  the  small- 
est flaw  in  the  record  of  any  one  of  us  his  use- 
fulness is  destroyed!" 

Reynolds  met  Cowperthwaite's  eyes  in  a  long 
look  that  had  a  good  deal  of  sadness  at  the 
bottom  of  its  scrutiny. 

"As  Mr.  Fillebrown  says,  if  we  have  not  full 
confidence  in  you,  your  usefulness  with  us  is 
impaired.     I   regret — " 

"I  refuse  to  consider  that  you  speak  for  the 
whole  Civic  Club."  Cowperthwaite's  temper 
was  rising.  "And  I  refuse  to  resign  under  fire. 
I  make  the  statement  that  my  admiration  for 
Mr.  Mayo's  daughter  has  not  influenced  my 
judgment  of  him  or  my  action  in  the  prosecution. 
But  if  you  cannot  accept  my  statement  you 
must  do  as  you  think  best." 

The  three  men  were  becoming  heated.  "Then 
we  shall  be  forced — "  Fillebrown  had  begun, 
when  Ward,  who  had  not  spoken  before,  claimed 
their   attention: 

"I  was  in  entire  ignorance  of  the  matter  of 
which  you  are  speaking.  And  I  am  all  the  more 
amazed  at  the  absolute  integrity  of  Mr.  Cowper- 

[261] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

thwaite's  attitude.  From  the  beginniiig  he  has 
been  single-minded  in  his  determination  to  secure 
the  success  of  the  prosecution.  If  he  had  per- 
sonal friendship  at  stake,  he  is  certainly  to  be 
admired  for  the  way  he  has  absolutely  disre- 
garded it.     I'd—" 

He  had  said  so  much,  in  spite  of  Cowper- 
waite's  hurried  aside,  "Keep  out  of  this.  Ken. 
You'll  hurt  yourself.  Stand  from  under,"  when 
Wright,  the  third  man,  who  had  not  taken  any 
active  part  thus  far,  spoke  to  Ward  sharply: 

"It's  not  so  long  ago,  Mr.  Ward,  that  we  were 
debating  whether  to  use  our  influence  to  have 
you  removed.  You're  in  no  condition  to  stand 
sponsor  for  another.  It  will  take  little  more 
to  make  us  think  that  you  two  men  are  to- 
gether and  both  in  collusion  with  the  Mayo 
gang." 

Fillebrown  took  up  the  cudgels  for  Ward: 

"This  copies  with  a  mighty  bad  grace,  Wright, 
after  the  brilliant  prosecution  he  has  just  made — '* 

But  Wright  overbore  him: 

"We  would  have  got  Mayo  in  that  Brice 
matter  if  Holding  had  been  handled  right. 
I  think  we  should  have  taken  steps  then  toward 
having  Ward  removed.  I  never  was  in  favor  of 
letting  things  go.  How  do  we  know  that  he 
hasn't  got  hold  of  Remsen  now  by  using  the 

[262] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

money  of  some  man  who  has  a  motive  for  having 
Mayo  convicted?"  And  he  settled  back  with 
a  defiant  grunt. 

Ward's  face  showed  no  sign  of  feeling  beyond 
a  sudden  tenseness  of  all  the  muscles.  But  his 
unregenerate  fists  doubled.  However,  he  was 
too  desperately  in  earnest  not  to  speak  calmly. 

"I  haven't  time  just  now  to  resent  your  state- 
ments, Mr.  Wright.  I  suppose  I  must  assume 
that,  from  your  position  in  this  matter,  you  have 
a  certain  right  to  make  them.  But  I  am  con- 
cerned only  in  making  you  understand  how  com- 
pletely impossible  it  is  that  Mr.  Cowperthwaite 
can  have  done  anything  that  was  not  straight.'* 

"How  does  it  happen.  Ward,  if  your  opinion 
of  your  associate  is  so  high,  that  you  two 
were  at  loggerheads  during  the  earlier  part  of 
these  prosecutions.'^"  asked  Fillebrown,  shrewdly. 
"Your  enmity  was  so  clear  that  every  one  saw 
it.     And  it  undoubtedly  hurt  our  cause.'* 

"That  was  a  personal  misunderstanding  that 
has  since  been  cleared  up  completely,"  said 
Ward,  steadily.  "I  can  only  regret  my  past 
attitude.  But  I  can  assure  you  of  my  friend's 
honor — " 

"It  needs  more  than  a  statement  from  you. 
Ward,"  broke  in  Wright's  caviling  voice. 

Ward  turned  on  him  in  one  of  his  sudden  furies. 

[263] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"Well,  damn  it  all,  then,  I'll  prove  it!"  he  said, 
desperately.  "And  I  don't  care  a  hang  that 
I'll  do  for  myseK  in  proving  it.  Cowperthwaite's 
twice  the  man  I  am,  and  I  don't  propose  to  have 
him  go  down  because  of  my  fault." 

"Go  slow.  Ken,"  said  Cowperthwaite,  anxious- 
ly. "You  haven't  anything  to  do  with  this 
matter  of  mine.  Keep  clear  of  it.  It  isn't 
going  to  hurt  me.  But  for  heaven's  sake  look 
out  for  yourself!" 

But  Ward's  long  period  of  rigorous  self-con- 
trol was  at  an  end.  A  generous  passion  of  be- 
lief in  his  friend  had  hold  of  him.  Only  half 
tamed  as  he  was,  or  would  ever  be,  it  swept  him 
out  into  a  tide  of  magnificent  emotion.  He 
drew  himself  to  his  full  height  with  the  joy  of 
deliverance  from  shackles.  The  frightful  weari- 
ness that  had  oppressed  him  was  routed,  and 
with  it  the  remaining  shreds  of  prudence.  He, 
flushed  with  the  wine  of  combat,  grew  young  and 
ardent  and  untired  in  the  wonderful  flaming 
up  of  every  bit  of  vital  force  that  was  in  him. 
Now,  at  last,  there  should  be  nothing  hidden 
between  himself  and  the  world.  He  would  show 
them  what  Will  Cowperthwaite  had  been. 

"Distrust  Will  Cowperthwaite!"  His  voice 
rang  out » triumphantly .  "There  isn't  a  man 
living  whose  record's  whiter.     He  hasn't  done 

[264] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

a  dishonest  thing  since  I've  known  him.  And 
I've  known  him  almost  all  his  life.  Do  you  want 
to  know  why  he  couldn't  take  any  part  in  the 
Brice  case.'*  It  was  because  I  checkmated  him 
at  every  turn.  I  tell  you — it  was  because  I 
was  on  the  point  of  seUing  myself  to  Mayo. 
Yes,  I  was  ready  to  sell  myself  to  Mayo!"  He 
repeated  the  words  defiantly.  "And  Cowper- 
thwaite  found  it  out,  and  came  in  a  fury  to 
denounce  me  with  it.  But  when  he  found  the 
reason  that  was  making  me  act  like  an  unclean 
beast  he  came  back  to  me  with  his  hand  out- 
stretched and  believed  in  me,  and  helped  me  to 
go  straight!" 

He  looked  one  moment  at  Cowperthwaite, 
with  a  glow  on  his  face  that  made  the  heart  of 
every  man  thump,  because  of  the  warm  passion 
of  affection  that  was  in  it,  of  belief  and  grati- 
tude and  every  good  and  kindly  thing.  Then  he 
turned  to  the  other  men  again: 

"And  that's  the  man  you're  condemning  be- 
cause he  doesn't  wish  to  explain  why  he  went 
to  Mayo's  house!  I'd  stake  my  life  on  his 
honor — I   stake — st — " 

A  strange  and  puzzled  look  came  over  the 
ardent  face.  His  tongue  was  thick.  A  dark 
flush  rose  to  his  forehead.  He  struggled  pain- 
fully, gaspingly  for  utterance,  tried  to  reach  out 

[266] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

his  arms  in  sudden  panic.  One  arm  only  could 
he  move,  the  other  hung  powerless.  Just  as 
Cowperthwaite  and  Wright  sprang  toward  him 
he  crumpled  up.  Had  they  been  one  instant 
slower  they  would  not  have  caught  him  as  he 
fell. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

'T^'HE  doctor  summoned  to  the  room  in  the 
^  Civic  Club  where  Kenneth  Ward  had  been 
carried  was  the  one  who  had  warned  him.  Ward 
had  never  had  an  occasion  to  require  a  physician's 
service  for  himself,  so  this  chance  acquaintance 
was  the  only  one  who  suggested  himself  to  Cow- 
perthwaite.  Dr.  Hains,  when  he  found  that 
Mrs.  Ward  was  away  from  home,  wished  to  have 
the  sick  man  taken  to  a  hospital  at  once.  But 
Cowperthwaite  overruled  him. 

"I  have  often  spent  the  night  at  his  house 
when  we  were  particularly  pressed  for  time 
this  summer,"  he  said.  "I  can  stay  there  now 
and  will  take  full  responsibility  until  we  com- 
municate with  Mrs.  Ward.  You  can  have  the 
best  nurse  you  can  find  sent  there  at  once  to 
make  ready  for  him."  The  doctor  protested, 
but  Cowperthwaite  was  firm.  "I  think  it  will 
be  less  of  a  shock  for  Mrs.  Ward  when  she  re- 
turns," he  said,  with  quiet  authority,  "and 
more  cheerful  for  Mr.  W^ard  when  he  regains 
consciousness.     Meantime  I  can  manage  things." 

18  [267] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

Ward  lay  in  stupor,  motionless.  The  left 
side  of  his  face  was  slightly  drawn,  his  breathing 
labored.     The  doctor  was  grave. 

"He's  been  under  a  severe  nervous  strain  for 
months,  of  course,"  he  commented.  Then  he 
turned  to  the  four  men  who  were  hovering  over 
the  senseless  figure.  "Has  there  been  any  recent 
shock.'^"  he  asked  of  Cowperthwaite. 

"Yes,  there  has,"  Cowperthwaite  replied, 
gruffly,  without  raising  his  eyes  to  the  others. 
"His  heart  was  full  of  unendurable  pain." 

"Well,  I  can't  diagnose  yet  with  any  certainty. 
This  may  be  only  a  nervous  collapse.  But  it 
looks  to  me  perilously  like  a  clot  on  the  brain. 
If  men  would  only  learn  not  to  ride  a  willing 
body  to  death!  If  it  is  a  blood-clot,  nobody  can 
tell  how  it  will  terminate.  It  may  be  entirely 
absorbed;  in  which  case  he  will  soon  be  as  well 
as  ever.  It  may  be  partially  absorbed;  then  he 
will  be  left  with  some  slight  paralysis  of  the  side 
affected,  with  the  probability  of  recurrence. 
The  case  may  terminate  fatally.  It's  utterly 
impossible  to  prophesy  at  this  stage.  We'll 
get  an  ice-pack  on  his  head  now.  Get  him  home 
and  in  bed.  I'll  send  a  nurse  with  the  am- 
bulance." 

In  the  iiiterval  of  waiting  before  the  ambulance 
came  there  was  some  low-toned  discussion  among 

[268] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

the  men  who  had  so  lately  been  sitting  in  judg- 
ment on  the  two  friends.  At  the  end  of  it 
Reynolds  went  to  Cowperthwaite. 

"Everything  is  at  a  standstill,  you  under- 
stand, until  there  is  some  outcome  of  Mr.  Ward's 
illness.  In  the  mean  time,  we  suspend  judg- 
ment. You'll  have  no  critics  here — only  friends. 
You'll  have  the  rest  of  the  cases  postponed,  of 
course?"  And  when  Cowperthwaite  answered, 
indifferently,  "I  suppose  so,"  the  other  man 
said,  briefly,  with  a  motion  of  his  head  toward 
where  Ward  lay,  "You  have  a  friend  there!" 
and  wrung  his  hand. 

"Yes,  and  I  propose  to  keep  him;  we've  got 
to  pull  him  through,"  Cowperthwaite  said, 
brokenly.  And  his  heart  was  lightened  a  trifle 
by  the  friendly  concern  of  the  other  three.  It 
was  Wright  to  whom  Cowperthwaite  gave  the 
hastily  scribbled  telegram  to  send  to  Ruth. 

The  twelve  hours  that  followed  were  the  most 
frantically  anxious  of  Cowperthwaite's  life.  He 
refused  to  leave  the  room  or  even  to  lie  down. 
With  the  nurse,  and  intermittently  the  doctor, 
he  kept  up  the  watch  for  some  sign  of  returning 
consciousness  in  the  stricken  man.  When  nine 
o'clock  came,  and  there  was  no  change  in  the 
heavy  breathing,  the  doctor  admitted  that  the 
outlook  was  discouraging.     An  hour  after  that 

(2691 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

they  all  fancied  the  breathing  was  somewhat 
more  normal.  But  the  depth  of  stupor  in  which 
the  man  lay  seemed  just  as  profound.  It  was 
just  after  midnight  that  the  heavy  eyelids 
trembled,  were  finally  pulled  apart,  and  Ward 
looked  up  at  the  friend  bending  over  him  with 
something  that  looked  like  recognition  in  his  eyes. 

"Good!"  Dr.  Hains  said,  in  a  tone  of  intense 
satisfaction.  Then  he  added  in  a  voice  that  was 
suddenly  aware  how  drowsy  it  was:  "Now  I 
think  I'U  go  home  and  get  some  sleep.  Keep 
him  very  quiet;  pull  the  shades  down  so  the 
morning  light  won't  disturb  him,  and  be  very 
careful  to  keep  every  disturbance  from  him. 
If  his  wife  telegraphs,  don't  tell  him  unless  he 
asks  about  her.   Any  shock  now  would  be  serious." 

Even  then  Cowperthwaite  would  not  leave 
Ken's  bedside.  He  drew  a  big  chair  up  so  he 
could  face  the  sick  man,  told  the  nurse  to  get 
some  rest  in  the  next  room,  and  prepared  to 
keep  vigil.  For  the  first  time  he  had  leisure  to 
realize  that  they  were  in  a  room  in  Ward's  house 
that  he  had  never  been  in  before.  It  was  one 
that  the  doctor  had  chosen  for  some  advantage 
of  situation — Cowperthwaite  had  forgotten  what; 
or  perhaps  it  was  because  the  bed  was  a  small 
one,  and  tljey  could  easily  bend  over  the  helpless 
man  from  either  side.     There  was  no  fight  but 

[  270  1 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

a  tiny  glow  from  a  sick-room  lamp,  and  that 
was  shaded  by  some  paper  contrivance  the 
nurse  had  arranged.  In  the  semi-darkness  he 
could  still  see  that  everything  was  exquisitely 
light  and  fresh  and  simple,  the  walls  of  the  palest 
tint  and  the  curtains  of  the  daintiest,  lightest 
lawn.  It  adjoined  Ruth's  room.  The  guest- 
room that  Cowperthwaite  would  occupy  was  on 
the  floor  above.  He  wondered  idly  how  this 
chamber  came  to  look  so  charmingly  fresh  and 
dainty,  and  yet,  somehow,  not  have  the  im- 
personal air  of  non-use. 

There  was  another  trembling  of  Ward's  eye- 
lids. Cowperthwaite  bent  eagerly  forward.  The 
eyes  were  on  him  with  what  seemed  like  a  faint 
question  in  their  dark  depths.  Having  been 
warned  to  do  nothing  to  rouse  him,  Cowper- 
thwaite merely  smiled  a  peaceful  assurance. 
Apparently  it  satisfied  Ken,  for  he  made  an 
indistinct  sound  and  closed  his  eyes  again. 

Again  there  was  a  long  pause  when  existence 
seemed  suspended.  But  Cowperthwaite  was 
beginning  to  be  so  far  reassured  as  to  Ward's 
condition  that  his  mind  went  off  to  Ruth,  won- 
dering why  she  had  not  telegraphed,  hoping 
that  Ken's  illness  might  soften  her.  He  had 
very  little  doubt  that  she  would  come  on  to 
nurse  him;  mere  humanity  demanded  that,  and 

[271] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

Ruth  was  never  lacking  that  way.  But  there 
was  the  graver  question  of  her  relation  to  Ken 
when  he  should  recover — Cowperthwaite  was 
already  beginning  to  say  "when"  to  himself 
instead  of  "if."  There  was  no  telling  what  a 
dynamic  young  woman  like  Ruth  would  do — 
especially  a  young  woman  with  red  hair,  he 
concluded,  with  a  sigh  that  was  the  eternal 
masculine  acknowledgment  of  his  own  helpless- 
ness before  the  feminine  problem. 

Of  course  the  next  step  of  his  mind  was  toward 
Claire — if  that  sinking  of  his  thought  into  a  more 
active  consideration  of  the  love  that  lay,  in  a 
glow  like  firelight,  always  in  the  nest  his  heart 
had  resolved  itself  into,  could  be  termed  a  step. 
But  he  was  not  lost,  as  he  usually  was,  in  the 
alternating  exultant  upward  leap  of  his  confi- 
dence and  its  sagging  before  the  inexorableness 
of  the  immediate  situation.  Instead  of  that, 
alone  with  Ken  in  the  silent,  white  room,  before 
the  great  issue  of  life  or  death,  all  the  fever  of 
his  longing  became  merged  into  a  strange  calm. 
In  the  face  of  real  separation,  the  barrier  that 
divided  them  seemed  a  slight  and  transient  thing. 
In  that  moment  he  thought  he  knew  that  the 
barrier  was  incapable  of  standing  long  against 
the  great,  silently  sweeping,  immeasurably  deep 
flood  of  their  attraction.    At  its  height,  his  spir- 

[272] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

itual  exaltation  carried  him  to  a  calm  eminence 
from  which  he  was  persuaded  that,  after  all, 
whether  life  gave  her  to  him  or  not,  the  one  es- 
sential was  to  know  she  waSy  sweet  and  high  and 
fine,  making  all  things  more  blest  about  her  with 
her  warm,  tranquil,  believing  peace.  But  the 
very  picture  that  his  mind  had  made  came  to  life 
in  some  strange  manner  and  called  to  him  on  his 
still  heights.  And  he  came  down  from  them, 
the  tide  of  life  again  tingHng  all  through  him, 
exulting  in  his  descent  to  that  plane  on  which, 
even  before  Ken's  silent  face,  he  could  think  of 
her  as  his,  swear  that,  in  some  way,  she  should 
be  his  after  the  sweet  human  claims  through 
which  he  dimly  felt  must  come  all  the  hard-won 
gains  of  their  spirits.  And  so,  the  cycle  com- 
pleted, he  came  to  rest  again  in  the  mere  assur- 
ance that,  somewhere,  his  joy  lay  waiting  for 
him.  And  Claire  again  slept,  warm  and  peaceful, 
in  the  nest  that  had  been  made  of  his  heart. 

He  was  roused  by  seeing  Ken's  eyes  fixed  on 
him;  he  had  not  seen  when  they  were  opened. 
Ward  was  not  only  looking  at  him  with  full  in- 
telligence; he  was  making  a  strong  effort  to  speak. 

"  Everything  is  all  right.  You  are  just  to  rest." 
Cowperthwaite  spoke  soothingly;  he  was  not  to 
encourage  him  to  talk.  But  evidently  that  did 
not  satisfy  Ward,  for  he  struggled  again  with  the 

[  273  ] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

thick  tongue  that  clogged  his  utterance.  His 
friend  bent  toward  him.  His  own  heart  taught 
him  what  name  it  was  Ward  wanted  to  say. 

"She  will  come  in  a  little  while."  Cowper- 
thwaite  nodded  reassuringly,  beginning  to  feel, 
meantime,  the  suspense  of  the  fact  that  Ruth  had 
not  yet  answered.  Suppose  she  should  be  ob- 
durate— but  no,  that  was  unthinkable!  Suppose 
she  should  be  delayed  in  coming  and  that  delay 
should  make  Ken  worse!  He  waited,  with  tense 
anxiety,  for  the  graying  of  the  window-shades 
that  would  mean  the  dawn. 

He  heard  the  nurse  stirring  in  the  next  room. 
Soon  she  came  to  Ward's  bedside,  scrutinized 
the  patient  closely,  heard  Cowperthwaite's  report, 
insisted,  with  some  show  of  sweetness  toward  this 
evident  eligible,  that  he  should  get  some  sleep. 
Then  followed  the  instant  oblivion  after  he  threw 
himself  down  on  the  couch  in  Ken's  study,  where 
he  slept  a  most  recreating  two  hours.  Next  was 
the  doctor's  persistently  non-committal  visit. 
After  that  Cowperthwaite  realized  that  he  must 
go  to  the  City  Hall  and  make  arrangements  for 
the  postponement  of  the  next  case  on  the  docket. 
He  delayed  longer  than  he  should  have  done, 
hoping  that  some  word  would  come  from  Ruth. 
But  none  came,  and  he  had  to  go  away  with  his 
heart  still  Heavy  with  anxiety. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

AS  soon  as  he  got  down-town  he  was  beset  with 
-^~*-  men  who  had  heard,  from  the  morning  papers 
or  from  hearsay,  about  Ward's  illness  and  were 
eager  to  know  the  details.  He  told  the  little  that 
he  could  so  many  times  that  the  words  became 
stereotyped  into  a  form.  The  worst  of  it  was 
that  in  almost  every  case  there  was  some  in- 
quiry as  to  Mrs.  Ward's  anxiety,  and  when  he 
was  obliged  to  say  that  she  was  away  from  home, 
demands  as  to  when  she  would  arrive,  which  he 
found  embarrassing  to  answer.  As  soon  as  his 
business  was  despatched  he  hurried  to  go  back 
to  Ken.  He  couldn't  reach  the  house  by  'phone, 
for  that  had  been  switched  ofiF  by  the  doctor's 
orders. 

Half-way  down  the  block  he  met  Mayo.  Cow- 
perthwaite  was  hurrying  past  when  the  Big  Man 
stopped  him. 

"What's  this  about  your  friend  Ward?"  Mayo 
asked,  an  emphasis  on  "friend"  and  an  inde- 
scribable tinge  of  friendliness  in  his  face. 

[275] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"I  hope  he's  gaining."  Cowperthwaite  was 
hurrying  on. 

"Wait  a  bit.  Or — I'll  walk  your  way  if  you're 
pressed  for  time."  Mayo  turned  and  the  two 
men  walked  a  few  paces  in  silence. 

"Ward  got  into  trouble  defending  you,  didn't 
he?  They  say  this  attack  followed  a  rather 
heated  discussion." 

Cowperthwaite  halted. 

"How  did  you  know  that. 5^"  he  demanded. 

"Oh,  as  I  think  I  told  you,  it's  my  business  to 
know  things."  Mayo's  slow  smile  hardly  dis- 
turbed the  gravity  of  his  face.  "  However,  there's 
nothing  mj'^sterious  about  this.  The  circum- 
stances point — you  two  men  alone  with  the  com- 
mittee, the  agitation  of  everybody.  Moreover, 
it's  possible  that  they  were  too  much  moved  by 
it  all  to  be  quite  prudent  in  what  they  said  at 
first." 

Mayo  stopped  speaking.  His  face  was  very 
grave  as  he  turned  it  away.  He  was  gazing  into 
the  crowded  street,  as  if  he  were  seeking  there 
help  for  some  hard  task  that  was  oppressing  him. 
What  things  he  saw  there  his  strong  face  did  not 
reveal,  whether  it  was  those  things  that  were 
or  those  more  real  scenes  that  had  passed.  Did 
he  see  visions  of  his  youth,  his  single  loves,  a 
young  mother  and  sweet  baby,  an  ivied  mound, 

[276] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

the  clear  trust  in  his  daughter's  eyes?  No  one 
could  have  told  whether  he  saw  the  coming  of 
better  things  or  foreknew  that  his  role  was  cast  in 
tragedy.  When  he  turned  again  to  Cowper- 
thwaite  his  face  was  merely  serious. 

"When  do  you  want  to  marry  my  little  girl?" 
he  asked. 

The  younger  man  stared  at  him  with  perfect 
incredulity;  then  with  indignation: 

"It's  not  exactly,  the  time  for  humor,"  he  said, 
curtly. 

"And  my  daughter  is  not  the  subject  I  would 
choose  for  humor." 

"But — but  she  wouldn't  marry  me  without 
your  consent." 

"She  wouldn't  have  to.  I've  changed  my 
mind." 

It  seemed  to  take  a  long  time  for  Cowper- 
thwaite  to  understand.  When  at  last  he  did  so, 
he  was  surprised  himself  that  it  was  not  a  frantic 
exultation  that  took  possession  of  him,  but  a 
strong,  deep  assurance  that  flowed  in,  little  by 
little,  until  every  cranny  of  him  was  filled.  But 
it  was  not  joy.  Instead,  it  was  an  overwhelming 
seriousness  before  which  he  felt  abashed.  He 
couldn't  even  speak  to  Mayo  as  he  should.  He 
walked  by  him  silently,  trying  vainly  to  grasp  it 
all,  to  reconstruct  himself,  to  imagine  life  with 

[277] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

that  barrier,  that  had  been  the  prohibition  of  all 
joy,  removed.  Finally  he  gave  it  up,  and  turned 
again  to  Mayo  with  what  he  felt  was  a  dumb 
and  stupid  coldness.  But  Mayo  seemed  to 
understand  him  and  half  smiled. 

"What  had  made  you  change.'^  I'm  the  same, 
and  so  is  Ward,  and  all  the  conditions." 

"Not  quite  true  of  the  conditions,  is  it.^*  How 
about  this  last  scene — when  Ward  risked  his  own 
job  for  you.'^" 

"Well,  that  was  Ken  Ward  that  was  great,  not 
myself.    And — " 

"Oh,  Cowperthwaite,"  said  Mayo,  in  soothing 
pity  of  his  denseness,  "do  you  suppose  for  a 
minute  that  Ward,  even  if  he  were  a  holy  saint 
and  martyr,  would  put  his  own  career  in  peril  for 
a  man  who  had  betrayed  him  with  his  wife? 
That's  the  light  that  has  broken  in  upon  me. 
It's  the  only  absolute  proof  possible.  You  ought 
to  be  thankful  that  it  came  in  time.  And  I  want 
to  ask  your  pardon."  His  eyes  sought  Cowper- 
thwaite's,  and  his  hand  was  outstretched. 

Cowperthwaite  took  it,  but  with  his  head 
averted. 

"  You'dbetter  ask  hers,**  was  his  gruff  comment. 
.  "So  I  would — if  I  had  happened  to  converse 
with  the  l^dy.  As  it  is,  I  suppose  I  did,  a  little, 
in  my  own  mind." 

[278] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE    • 

The  first  coolness  of  the  fall  was  in  the  air. 
The  men  walked  briskly  and  in  silence.  They 
came,  at  last,  to  the  street  on  which  was  Mayo's 
house.  In  the  crisp  air,  with  the  bright  smi 
flooding  it,  the  quarter  had  an  imtidy  gaiety  of 
its  own. 

"I  wish  you'd  tell  me,"  Cowperthwaite  spoke 
suddenly.  "What's  your  reason,  after  all.?  Only 
one  of  the  arguments  against  me  has  been  re- 
moved. I'm  still  one  of  the  men  who  convicted 
you;  you've  every  right  to  think  me  your  enemy. 
Surely  it  can't  be  very  pleasant  to  you  to  give 
her  up  to  me." 

All  at  once  Mayo  flushed,  surprisingly,  boy- 
ishly. He  hesitated  a  moment  and  then  he  met 
the  younger  man's  eyes  with  his  direct,  forceful 
gaze. 

"I  don't  want  you  to  think  I've  got  cold  feet 
on  my  own  account/'  he  said,  reluctantly.  "I'm 
not  a  bit  frightened.  I'll  have  my  appeal,  and 
I'll  never  be  imprisoned.  I  suppose  I  will  have  to 
use  what  you  would  call  crooked  methods  to  win 
out.  Just  now  I'd  a  little  bit  rather  not.  Some- 
times I  think  I  would  almost  rather  let  the  thing 
go  and  take  my  medicine.  But  I  won't  do  it,  all 
the  same.  I  tell  you,  I  am  too  good  material 
to  shut  up  in  a  cell  and  set  to  picking  hemp. 
That  doesn't  correspond  with  my  idea  of  the 

[279] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

economy  of  things.  So  I  will  have  to  win  out. 
But  I  have  had  my  lesson.  I  have  been  wrong, 
dead  wrong.  Our  kind  of  thing  may  accomplish 
some  results,  but  it  doesn't  breed  the  right  kind 
of  man — " 

"With  all  due  respect  to  my  own  principles 
arid  damning  you  heartily  for  pretty  much  all 
ybii've  done,  I  believe  you  are  a  bad  example  of 
your  last  point!"  Cowperthwaite  laughed. 

But  Mayo  took  him  up  with  the  utmost  seri- 
ousness. 

"No,  I've  thought  that  all  out.  That's  be- 
cause I  had  my  start  in  the  most  rigorously  dis- 
ciplined household  that  was  founded  on  the 
strictest  and  sternest  principles,  moral  and  re- 
ligious. I  acquired  some  habits  then  that  stuck, 
that's  all.  But — I've  come  to  the  realization  of 
it — Lyman  is  a  cur  of  the  type  we  breed.  His 
turning  traitor  opened  my  eyes.  And  I  reasoned 
it  all  out,  from  start  to  finish.  All  the  play- 
grounds and  mothers'  outings  and  poor  relief 
in  the  universe  can't  make  up  for  it.  When  I  got 
back  to  the  beginning  of  things  I  found  that,  in 
fundamentals,  I  had  been — dead  wrong." 

The  sense  of  defeat  in  his  tone  came  danger- 
ously near  being  tragic.  Cowperthwaite  swal- 
lowed his  sympathy,  knowing  that  the  worst 
crime  would  be  to  express  it.    Before  the  tight- 

[280] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

ness  at  his  throat  had  loosened  he  was  surprised 
at  the  every-day  cheerfulness  of  Mayo's  tone. 

"So  as  soon  as  I've  got  this  thing  straightened 
out  I  will  have  to  set  to  work  to  do  things  the 
other  way.  I  can  show  you  fellows  a  trick  or  two 
when  I  get  started."  He  laughed  his  hearty, 
confident  laugh.  "But  still,  this  had  made  me 
feel  the  uncertainty  of  things  a  little.  I  want  my 
little  girl  safe  and  sheltered.  I  want  her  with  an 
honest  man.  You're  it!"  He  laughed  at  his 
own  attempt  to  turn  his  real  feeling  into  slangy 
colloquialism. 

Cowperthwaite  looked  up  and  saw  that  they 
stood  outside  Mayo's  house. 

"May  I  come  in?"  he  asked,  and  the  Big  Man 
nodded. 

Both  men  were  silent  and  oppressed  with  feel- 
ing when  they  climbed  the  steps.  Before  Mayo 
put  his  key  in  the  latch  he  said,  hurriedly: 

"There's  another  reason,  but  I  won't  tell  you 
yet." 

He  ushered  the  young  man  into  his  study. 
They  heard  music  coming  from  the  next  room. 
It  rolled  under  the  closed  door  and  through  the 
curtains,  something  prohibitive  in  its  very 
beauty,  sign  and  symbol  of  the  girl  whose  fingers 
roused  it  from  sleeping  wood.  Both  men  were 
stayed. 

[281] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"Wait!"  whispered  Mayo.  And  almost  in 
the  same  instant  the  younger  man  held  up  his 
hand  in  warning  and  cried,  "Hush!" 

And  then,  at  the  thought  of  her,  remote,  with- 
drawn, maker  of  melody  before  which  his  own 
life  seemed  all  crude,  harsh  noises,  a  sudden 
dismay  overtook  Cowperthwaite;  it  seemed  as 
yet  so  much  more  natural  to  be  dismayed  than 
to  be  glad. 

"We  have  taken  things  very  much  for  granted," 
he  whispered  again  to  Mayo.  "How  do  we 
know  how  she  will  feel  about  it?  We  haven't 
asked  Claire." 

And  Mayo,  filled  with  a  novel  awe  of  his  own 
daughter,  returned  in  rueful  admission: 

"That's  so;  you  can't  tell  anything  about  the 
way  a  girl  will  feel  about  things," 

The  music  silenced  them.  Neither  man  knew 
from  what  composer  it  was  that  she  was  playing. 
That  didn't  matter.  It  spoke  to  them.  Con- 
tained within  herself  as  Claire  was,  the  revela- 
tion of  her  was  such  that  it  seemed  sacrilege  to 
listen. 

First  delicate  and  simple  melodies  flowed  from 
her  fingers,  gentle,  playful,  but  wanting  in  some 
relating,  deeper  chord.  Both  men  instinctively 
waited  for  its  coming.  But  when  it  first  sounded, 
uncertain,*, tentative,  but  arresting,  there  was  a 

[282] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

sense  of  something  wistful  in  the  melody  it 
wrought,  choked  and  hidden  like  tears.  Again 
it  came,  more  sure,  more  potent,  gathering  unto 
itself  all  the  vagrant  happy  airs,  sweeping  them 
before  it,  marshaling  them  into  unthinkable 
harmony,  marching  triumphant,  swelling  in  a 
passion  of  ecstasy.  So,  for  some  moments,  the 
majesty  of  the  passion  held  them,  only  to  be  ar- 
rested by  a  warning  chord  that  fell  into  the  midst, 
crashing  all  the  jubilant  beauty  into  a  discord 
that  seemed  to  shriek  with  pain.  Then  the  two 
contended  together  for  many  a  stormy  meas- 
ure, restless  and  discordant  as  November  winds. 
The  joyous  exotic  strain  was  crowded  into  silence; 
little  by  little  the  conquering  theme  took  to  itself 
power  and  dignity,  and  a  certain  dehcate  beauty, 
high  and  cold  as  stars  on  a  frosty  night.  The 
music  ended,  almost  suddenly,  with  a  single 
austere,  grave,  heart-broken  chord. 

Mayo  turned  to  Cowperthwaite.  The  father 
was  suffering,  and,  unconsciously,  he  seemed  to 
be  accusing  the  lover  because  of  it. 

"Do  you  know  now  what  I  meant.'*"  whispered 
Mayo.     "That's  the  other  reason.    That." 

The  curtains  parted  and  Claire  appeared  before 
them. 

There  was  a  moment  in  which  she  stood  still 
and  looked  at  them.    Her  lips  had  suddenly  be- 

19  [283] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

come  dry  and  unmanageable.  So  she  didn't  try 
to  speak.  But  even  the  slight  tinge  of  pink  that 
crept  over  her  face  could  not  drown  the  almost 
disconcerting  directness  of  her  clear,  questioning 
eyes. 

In  the  pause  before  any  one  spoke,  a  pause 
which  he,  somehow,  felt  no  personal  responsi- 
bility to  put  an  end  to,  Cowperthwaite  tried 
dreamily  to  fix,  once  for  all,  upon  his  mental 
vision  the  intangible  difference  from  any  other 
woman  that  made  the  inescapable  charm  of  her 
face.  If  he  were  an  artist,  how  few  strokes — could 
he  catch  them ! — would  he  use  to  give  the  quality 
of  her  face.  How  few,  how  simply  curving,  were 
the  lines  that  defined  her  eyes  with  their  accenting 
brows,  the  mingled  sensitiveness  to  emotion  and 
composure  of  her  mouth — and  oh,  its  sweetness! 
How  gentle  the  curving  but  how  subtle  were  the 
gradations  that  stamped  its  beauty  on  you! 

He  started  toward  her.  "Claire!"  he  cried 
out,  as  if  in  a  dream.    "Oh,  how  I  love  you!" 

But  Mayo  had  gone  to  her  and  had  taken  her 
hand  in  his  firm  grasp.  There  was  no  such  thing 
as  delay  to  Mayo. 

"Claire,"  he  said,  the  crispness  of  his  utterance 
queerly  struggling  with  his  gentleness,  "this  man 
loves  you;  I  believe  he  can  make  you  happy.  I 
am  willing  he  should  have  you." 

[284] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

She  caught  her  breath  a  httle.  But  her  eyes 
clung  always  to  her  father,  who  had  always  been 
the  dispenser  of  all  good  to  her.  And,  more  than 
anything  else,  her  eyes  questioned. 

**Do  you  care  for  him?"  There  was  a  struggle 
before  the  tone  could  come  out,  cheerfully  affec- 
tionate. 

She  was  evidently  troubled  at  having  to  an- 
swer.   But  it  never  occurred  to  her  to  evade. 

"Yes — at  least  I  suppose  that  is  what  it  is." 

Mayo  smiled  as  he  looked  down  at  her  hand, 
still  held  in  his.  The  smile  was  a  strained  one 
and  made  stiff  creases  at  the  side  of  his  mouth. 

"Then,  I  suppose,  the  tactful  method  is  for 
me  to  signify  my  consent  and  go." 

But  her  hand  still  clung  to  his  and  her  eyes  went 
from  him  to  Cowperthwaite. 

"But — I  don't  understand.  He  isn't  your 
friend." 

The  father  hastened  to  reassure  her: 

"We  have  no  personal  enmity  toward  each 
other.  Men  often  differ  in  opinion  who  still  like 
each  other.  Mr.  Cowperthwaite  hasn't  approved 
of  my  business  methods,  but — " 

"Are  you  friends  with  my  father?"  The  clear 
glance  still  dwelt  on  Cowperthwaite. 

"I  have  the  most  friendly  feeling  for  your 
father,  apart  from  our — our  contention."     For 

[285] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

the  first  time  Cowperthwaite  moved  toward  her, 
in  the  eagerness  of  his  desire  to  end  her  doubt. 

She  frowned  a  Httle  in  her  puzzle. 

"Do  you  believe  that  he  was  right,  that  he 
has  been  always — honest?" 

The  lover  blushed  and  stammered: 

"Why — why — in  some  ways — although  we 
dififer." 

His  evasion  made  her  impatient. 

"There  is  only  one  way  to  believe  in  any  one," 
she  said  with  decision,  "and  that  is,  to  the  very 
bottom.  In  what  other  way  can  men  be  friends? 
Do  you  believe  my  father  was  honest?" 

Cowperthwaite  could  make  no  answer. 

"There!  You  see!"  She  turned  from  him 
helplessly. 

Both  men  protested. 

"But — you  mustn't  take  such  an  extreme  view. 
You  don't  understand — " 

Still  she  held  her  ground,  with  a  firmness  that 
was  too  heartbroken  to  be  merely  obdurate. 

"Either  you  have  been  opposing  him  when 
you  were  not  convinced  he  was  wrong — and 
I  can't  believe  that  of  you  for  a  minute — or 
you  believe  now,  as  you  always  have,  that  he 
isn't  honest.  Now  /  believe  in  my  father.  So 
you  see  it  can't  be.  Surely  that's  perfectly 
simple.     It  can't." 

[286] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

Mayo  was  beginning  to  look  at  her  in  puzzled 
speculation.  But  to  Cowperthwaite's  rising  ex- 
ultation in  the  thought  that  the  way  was  clear 
to  win  her  this  stand  of  hers  was  only  a  passing 
phase.  Wonder  at  his  own  unbehevable  hap- 
piness was  wearing  off. 

"But,  Claire,  you  can't  put  me  off  that  way 
for  a  mere  idea.  All  these  doubts  will  resolve 
themselves.  Your  father  and  I  understand  each 
other."  His  tone  was  gay  and  confident. 
But  Mayo's  presence  was  beginning  to  be  irk- 
some. He  felt  he  could  much  better  plead  his 
cause  alone. 

Claire  spoke: 

"I  heard  you  say  he  was  a  man  whom  all  good 
citizens  should  regard  as  their  worst  menace. 
You  said  it  in  court.     You  believed  that?" 

"Why,  yes,  but  that  referred  to  the  principles 
he  stood  for.     You  mustn't  confound — " 

She  looked  to  her  father  for  refuge.  She  knew 
he  understood. 

"You  can't  both  be  right,  and  have  been 
fighting  each  other.  I  believe  my  father  is 
right,  although  I  know,  of  course,  that  you  think 
you  are.  My  father  has  always  done  every- 
thing for  me.  And  I  don't  believe  you  can  sep- 
arate ways  of  believing  and  disbelieving  as  you 
say.     You  believe   in   any   one  or  you  don't. 

[287] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

It  wouldn't  be  right  to  marry  you,  no  matter 
how  much  I  eared  for  you.  I  know  it  wouldn't 
be  right.  You  can't  both  be  right.  I  have  to 
be  loyal  to  my  father.  I  am  sure  that  is  the 
right  way.  We  couldn't  ever  be  happy,  being 
divided  this  way — " 

Cowperthwaite  was  growing  white  with  the 
shock  of  her  strong  opposition.  His  first 
emotion  was  something  like  anger.  His  face 
showed  it. 

Claire  looked  at  him  in  helpless  pain.  Then 
she  threw  herself  into  her  father's  arms,  hiding 
her  face  on  his  shoulder: 

"Oh,  make  him  understand;  talk  to  him!" 
she  sobbed.  "He'll  never  believe  that  I  love 
him  so  it  hurts!" 

That  she  should  have  gone  to  her  father,  not 
to  him,  for  comfort!  All  at  once  Cowperthwaite 
felt  that  he  had  been  deceiving  himself.  She 
had  never  cared  for  him.  He  turned  away  and 
walked  to  the  window,  trying  to  understand, 
trying  to  hide  his  hurt,  hoping  obstinately,  but 
confused  with  pain. 

For  some  moments  Mayo  let  Claire  sob  in 
silence,  smoothing,  from  time  to  time,  the  sleek, 
tawny  masses  of  her  hair.  His  firm  hand 
even  shook  a  little.  His  little  girl  was  suffering. 
He  verily  believed  it  was  for  the  first  time  in  her 

[288] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

life.  The  great  fact  of  her  pain  filled  the  horizon. 
He  could  think  of  nothing  else.  For  a  time  he 
could  not  even  see  a  way.  For  him  it  was  the 
first  time  he  ever  remembered  feeling  entirely 
helpless. 

But  his  blue  eyes  narrowed  as  he  looked  into 
vacancy,  the  thing  gradually  took  shape  before 
him,  that  thing  that  he  must  do  to  make  her 
happy.  He  didn't  call  it  in  his  own  thought 
"sacrifice"  or  "self-abnegation"  or  any  other 
name.  He  was  not  given  to  calling  his  acts 
by  sounding  epithets.  It  took  shape  in  his 
thought  merely  as:  The  thing  that  had  to  be 
done.  So  he  loosened  her  arms  with  deliberate 
tenderness.  When  he  had  put  her  far  enough 
away  so  he  could  look  strongly  down  into  her 
eyes  he  said: 

"You  must  not  send  this  man  away  because 
of  his  opposition  to  me,  my  daughter.  He  has 
been  right  and  I  have  been — wrong." 

A  horrified,  protesting  exclamation  broke  from 
Cowperthwaite.  His  eyes  pleaded  with  Claire, 
against  himself,  for  her  father  with  all  the  force 
of  a  most  generous  instinct.  But  the  girl,  for 
that  moment,  disregarded  him.  Her  eyes,  wide 
with  unbelieving  terror,  clung  to  her  father's. 
Quietly,  inexorably,  he  held  himself  to  answer 
to   her  demand.     He   watched   the  instinctive, 

[289] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

filial,  passionate  protest  die  from  her  eyes. 
For  the  flicker  of  an  eyelash  the  feeling  that  re- 
placed it  was  shrinking.  Then  her  color  rose 
and  the  lids  fell  over  her  eyes,  that  he  might  not 
see  it.  In  that  action  Mayo  read,  inexorably, 
what  he  had  done. 

The  next  instant  the  impulse  of  recoil  had 
passed.  His  little  girl  clung  to  him  again, 
weeping,  fluttering  out  her  love,  her  pity,  for  that 
divine,  womanly  instinct  in  her  awoke.  The 
father  held  the  tender  hands  most  lovingly.  He 
let  himself  take  joy  in  her  exquisite  loyalty, 
that  caressing  tenderness  that  would  never  fail 
him.  For  all  that,  he  had  seen  in  her  eyes  what 
his  life  had  been,  unfailingly,  as  the  verdict  of 
the  jury  had  not  presented  it.  Whatever  his 
crimes  were,  that  moment  registered  his  full 
weight  of  punishment.  He  knew  that  that  most 
beautiful  feUowship  that  for  years  had  made 
the  whole  charm  of  his  roughshod  existence 
was  over.  He  could  not  even  take  some  sad 
credit  to  himself  for  having  had  the  selflessness 
to  end  it.  He  never  absorbed  the  shock  of  events 
by  featuring  himself  before  his  own  consciousness. 
To  John  Crayke  Mayo  things  either  were  not 
or  were. 

Moreover,  this  first  troubled  but  exquisite 
moment  of  her  young  fluttering  flight  toward 

(290] 


WERE  REALIZING  THAT  THET  WERE  ALONE 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

mating  must  have  no  pain  in  it  that  could  be 
avoided.  So  Mayo  resumed  his  cheerful,  con- 
fident manner.  He  shook  Cowperthwaite's  hand 
with  a  friendliness  that  had  become  almost 
fatherly.  In  passing  Claire  he  swept  her  hair 
with  a  kiss  where  the  silky  folds  were  parted. 
He  left  the  room  with  perfect  naturalness. 

After  a  moment  Claire  raised  her  eyes.  Her 
lover's  eyes  were  entreatingly  on  her  as  she  had 
felt  them.  So  there  was  no  room  for  any  other 
thought.  For  both  were  realizing  that  they  were, 
miraculously,  alone. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

WHEN  Cowperthwaite  found,  on  his  return 
to  the  house  where  Kenneth  Ward  lay, 
still  motionless,  that  no  word  had  been  received 
from  Mrs.  Ward,  he  reproached  himself  for  his 
own  selfishness.  During  the  hour  he  had  spent 
with  Claire  he  had  absolutely  forgotten  Ken. 
And  what  thoughts  had  been  passing  through  the 
mind  of  the  helpless  man  during  that  time? 
He  learned  that  Ward  had  appeared  to  be  con- 
scious. The  nurse  told  Cowperthwaite  that 
several  times  Mr.  Ward  had  seemed  to  want  to 
speak,  but  she  had  been  unable  to  understand 
him. 

Two  steps  at  a  time  Cowperthwaite  went  up 
the  stairs  to  Ken.  The  walls  of  the  darkened 
room  glimmered  palely,  the  counterpane  lay 
piteously  undisturbed  since  the  nurse*s  hands 
had  smoothed  and  pulled  it  into  its  straight, 
methodical  lines.  The  friend  took  his  place  by 
the  side  of  the  bed  and  waited. 

It  seemed  to  him  an  indefinitely  long  time 
that  he  sat  there.     Ken  was  asleep,  the  breath- 

[292] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

ing  was  quiet  and  regular,  the  dark  flush  had  left 
his  face.  The  doctor  came,  and  after  a  brief 
survey  said  that  his  gain  or  loss  would  be  more 
apparent  when  he  awoke.  Then  the  doctor 
asked  rather  anxiously  whether  anything  had 
been  heard  from  Mrs.  Ward.  The  two  men 
made  a  computation  of  the  necessary  time  for 
an  answer  to  the  telegram,  and  debated,  in 
hushed  tones,  the  advisability  of  sending  another 
one,  more  urgent. 

There  was  a  slight  sound,  and  they  saw  that 
Ward's  eyes  were  open.  The  rubber  ice-bag, 
which  happened  to  be  decorated  with  a  brilliant 
Scotch  plaid  pattern,  was  perched  on  one  side 
of  his  head,  giving  the  white  face  a  sort  of 
hysterically  jaunty  look.  But  all  the  expression 
they  could  desire  had  come  into  the  black  eyes 
that  burned  under  it.  They  were  incarnate 
longing.  Beseeching  eyes  on  Cowp>erthwaite, 
he  made  terrible  efforts  to  speak.  The  sounds 
were  painfully  incoherent.  The  eyes  were  des- 
perate at  the  realization  of  his  impotence. 

"Yes,  yes,*'  said  the  doctor;  "we  understand." 
It  was  necessary  to  reassure  him  at  all  hazards. 
But  Ward  seemed  to  disregard  him,  his  eyes  still 
clinging  to  Cowperthwaite.  He  tried  to  speak 
again;  this  time  his  friend  thought  he  could  dis- 
tinguish the  wife's  name: 

[293] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

"Ruth?"  tried  Cowperthwaite.  Then,  when 
the  passionate  assent  in  the  eyes  only  gave  way 
to  a  more  passionate  inquiry,  Cowperthwaite 
added,  "We  have  heard  from  her;  she  is  coming," 
hoping,  as  he  said  the  words,  his  lie  had  not  been 
the  more  hurtful  course. 

The  slight  flush  that  had  come  with  the  effort 
died  out,  and  Ward  lapsed,  looking  more  ex- 
hausted than  before,  with  the  dying  away  of  his 
frantic  energy.  The  doctor  went  into  the  next 
room,  beckoned  to  a  hurried  colloquy  by  the 
nurse.  That  lady  had  already  begun  to  suggest 
that  she  would  need  a  night-nurse  on  the  case, 
since  it  promised  to  be  a  long  and  difficult  one. 
Cowperthwaite,  overhearing,  thought  indignant- 
ly of  Ken  Ward,  with  all  his  generous  warm- 
heartedness, being  dependent,  at  this  moment, 
on  perfunctory  attendance  and  his  own  inade- 
quate aid. 

Coming  back,  the  doctor  warned  Cowper- 
thwaite against  talking  more  than  was  necessary, 
or  allowing  the  sick  man  to  dwell  on  anything 
disquieting;  "I  think  we  would  better  telegraph 
to  the  wife  again,"  he  said,  in  an  undertone. 
"He  needs  all  the  assistance  he  can  have.  Un- 
less he  shows  more  improvement  in  the  next 
twenty-four  hours  than  he  has  in  this  I  am 
afraid  we^cannot  hope  for  a  complete  disappear- 

[294] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

ance  of  the  paralysis.  I  doubt  if  the  end  will 
be  fatal;  but  I  am  afraid  we  cannot  look  for 
the  best."  Then  Cowperthwaite  was  left  alone 
again.  The  nurse  told  him,  smiling  sweetly, 
that  there  was  no  necessity  for  him  to  remain; 
she  would  put  off  her  walk  half  an  hour  if  neces- 
sary.    But  he  chose  to  stay. 

It  was  about  ten  minutes  after  the  doctor 
I  had  gone  that  Cowperthwaite,  turning  invol- 
untarily toward  the  door,  saw  Ruth  standing 
there.  She  still  wore  her  hat,  and  she  threw  a 
long  wrap  over  a  chair  on  entering.  She  walked 
like  a  somnambulist,  her  eyes  on  the  man  lying 
in  the  bed. 

When  she  stood  beside  him  she  paused  and 
stood,  looking  down  at  him.  It  was  true,  then! 
All  the  length  of  the  journey  she  had  been  telling 
herself,  monotonously,  every  other  minute,  that 
it  could  not  be.  How  could  any  one  believe 
that  Ken  could  be  stricken? 

That  long,  inert  helplessness  meant  that  it 
was  true.  As  she  looked,  one  hand  moved, 
weakly,  waveringly,  toward  his  face.  Half-way, 
either  through  impotence  or  because  some  half- 
formed  purpose  wavered,  it  paused,  was  feebly 
still.  At  the  sight  something  was  born  in  Ruth's 
heart  that  had  been  lacking,  something  that  grew, 
expanding  in  a  great  passionate  surge  of  all  her  be- 

[295] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

ing,  until  she  unconsciously  put  her  hand  to  her 
breast,  feeling  that  she  must  have  grown  in 
stature.  It  gripped  at  her  throat,  choking  her;  it 
tingled  in  her  eyes  until  all  things  in  the  quiet 
room  seemed  charged  with  soft  radiance,  as  the 
pencil  of  afternoon  light  beneath  the  window- 
shade  shot  into  a  rainbow  of  iridescence,  seen 
through  the  blinding  tears  in  her  half -shut  eyes. 
She  made  an  indescribable  sound  and  bent  over 
him.  She  was  like  a  mother  whose  naughty  child 
has  been  brought  home  hurt. 

The  foolish  gaiety  of  the  ice-bag  troubled 
her.  She  took  it  away  and  hung  over  him, 
trying  to  read  all  the  history  of  the  weeks  that 
had  divided  them  in  the  face  of  the  wreck  that 
lay  there,  his  eyes  still  closed,  his  pallor  death- 
like, the  white  lock  showing  wan  in  the  damp, 
black  mat  of  his  hair.  The  bleached  lock  was 
scarcely  more  colorless  than  the  skin  that  was 
stretched  taut  over  the  sharp  hollows  of  his 
forehead,  but  beside  the  gray-white  of  the  skin 
the  mere  colorlessness  of  that  strange,  white 
wing  of  hair  seemed  a  wholesome  thing.  Ap- 
palled by  what  she  saw  she  sank  suddenly  to  her 
knees  and  touched  humbly  the  big,  helpless  hand 
that  lay  sprawled  out  on  the  mathematically 
straight  cpverlid,  and  held  it  in  her  own  two  trem- 
bling hands  and  loved  it  very  carefully  with  her  lips. 

[i96] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

A  slight  stirring  of  the  outstretched  hand  and 
arm  put  her  in  a  panic.  She  got  to  her  feet,  and 
then,  for  the  first  time,  she  looked  wonderingly 
around  the  room.  Her  hands  went  to  her  dazed 
forehead  when  she  saw  Cowperthwaite.  She  had 
not  realized  before  that  any  one  was  there.  She 
went  to  him  with  her  breathless  questions. 

Cowperthwaite  satisfied  her  anxiety  as  well  as 
he  could,  and  saw  that  some  of  the  color  had 
come  back  to  her  lips.  He  told  her,  in  a  few 
words,  the  exact  conditions,  the  best  that  could 
be  hoped  for  and  the  worst.  He  spoke  with 
absolute  truthfulness,  not  making  light  of  the 
manifest  danger.  When  he  told  of  the  begin- 
ning of  Ken's  illness,  the  scene  at  the  Civic  Club, 
she  interrupted  him: 

"Then  you  and  he  are  friends  again — he 
understands?" 

"Yes.  I  really  wasn't  as  base  as  you  thought 
me,"  Cowperthwaite  replied,  finding  a  singular 
unreality  in  all  this  old  issue.  "I  had  tried  to 
explain  matters,  but  he  tore  up  the  letter." 

"I  remember  your  saying  something  about 
that,"  she  said.    Then,  hurriedly,  "But  go  on." 

When  he  charged  himself  with  being  the  cause 
of  Ken's  illness  she  shook  her  head  impatiently. 

"I  am  the  one  to  blame.  It's  all  my  fault- 
mine!"    She  seemed  to  feel  some  queer  jealousy 

I«97] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

that  any  one  else  should  have  been  of  so  much 
weight  in  Ken's  life  as  to  eflFect  his  hurt! 

Then  there  were  a  few  questions  and  answers 
while  they  discussed  the  details  of  her  journey 
and  of  the  sick-room.  "Why  didn't  you  tele- 
graph you  were  coming?"  Cowperthwaite  asked, 
finally.  "I  did,  from  the  first  way  station  that 
flagged  the  train,"  she  said,  in  surprise.  "I  had 
barely  time  to  catch  the  train.  Has  he  been  in 
suspense  all  this  time.'*  Or  didn't  he  ask  for  me?" 
Her  face  was  all  tense  question. 

"I  told  him  you  were  coming,  the  last  time  he 
woke,"  Cowperthwaite  hastened  to  reassure  her. 

Her  face  relaxed  into  soft  gratitude.  "Oh, 
thank  you;  I'm  so  glad." 

When  they  were  silent  for  a  moment,  and 
stood  together  looking  down  at  Ken's  helpless- 
ness, a  mist  came  into  Cowperthwaite's  eyes. 
Ruth  saw  the  suspicious  softness.  At  that  mo- 
ment she  forgave  him  freely,  and  took  his  hand, 
comforting  him,  forgetting  her  own  terror,  forcing 
herself  into  a  steadfast  determination  that  all 
must  be  well.  She  felt  the  birth  of  some  new 
sympathy  in  Will  Cowperthwaite.  From  that 
time  they  were  the  friends  they  had  been,  in  the 
days  of  their  youth,  before  anything  had  come 
to  spoil  their  honest  liking  for  each  other.  In 
that  nioment's  prelude,  while  Ken  still  slept, 

[298] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

their  score  was  wiped  clean,  and  with  a  good 
hearty  warmth  of  feeHng  they  knew  there  would 
be  friendship  between  them  to  the  end. 

Then  Cowperthwaite  charged  himself  with 
some  of  her  commissions  and  left.  The  new 
happiness  that  was  always  throbbing  underneath, 
in  some  amazement  at  its  daring  to  be  happiness 
in  the  midst  of  this  other  suffering,  warned  him 
that  Ruth  must  be  alone,  to  meet  Ken's  first  re- 
turn to  consciousness.  Before  he  turned  the  cor- 
ner he  knew  that,  as  soon  as  Ken  was  out  of  dan- 
ger, he  should,  infallibly,  tell  Ruth  about  Claire. 

The  nurse  bustled  in,  in  street  attire,  to  be 
met  with  Ruth's  low-toned  introduction  of  her- 
self and  assurance  that  she  would  take  charge 
while  that  young  lady  went  for  her  afternoon 
outing.  It  took  some  minutes  to  hear  a  report  on 
Mr.  Ward's  condition  that  differed  from  Cowper- 
thwaite's  only  in  the  use  of  more  technical  terms. 
Then  the  nurse  gave  instructions  and  indicated 
the  medicines  to  be  used  when  he  awoke,  re- 
iterated the  doctor's  command  that  the  patient 
be  kept  quiet,  as  free  as  possible  from  any  dis- 
turbance, looked  professionally  non-committal  at 
the  moment  she  was  asked  to  give  her  opinion, 
and  then  hastened  ostentatiously  to  give  the 
usual  perfunctory  assurance.  Then  again  Ruth 
was  left  alone. 

20  f  299  ] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

Her  eyes  on  Ken,  to  make  sure  she  did  not 
miss  a  motion,  she  took  oflf  her  hat  and  mechan- 
ically loosened  the  hair  around  her  temples;  it 
was  pressed  down  by  the  weight  of  her  hat  during 
the  long  hours  of  her  journey.  In  the  dimness 
of  the  room  her  hair  seemed  to  partake  of  her 
own  fatigue;  it  was  lifeless  and  dull  brown.  A 
few  hasty  steps  aside  into  her  own  room  to  leave 
her  hat  and  cloak  there  (so  there  might  be  no 
signs  of  confusion  or  disorder  when  Ken  opened 
his  eyes — that  all  might  seem  normal),  and  she 
was  ready  for  her  vigil.  A  throb  of  exultation 
pushed  its  way  into  the  midst  of  her  anxiety. 
There  was  no  one  to  meddle;  he  was  all  hers  to 
care  for. 

Seated  by  the  bed,  her  eyes  strayed  about. 
Dark  as  it  was,  she  knew  all  the  outlines  of  that 
room  by  heart.  Some  vague,  intangible  sense  of 
an  overtaking  fate  caught  at  her  heart  as  she 
wondered  why,  with  all  the  others  to  choose  from, 
they  should  have  brought  him  to  that  room. 
The  delicate  wall-paper,  the  few  simply  framed 
bright  prints,  the  screen  shutting  off  the  corner 
of  the  room — everything  was  photographed  on 
her  heart.  Although  the  darkness  hid  it,  she 
could  have  reproduced  on  paper  the  tracery  of 
the  clean-looking  designs  in  Delft  blue  on  the 
white  ground  of  the  cotton  fabric  that  covered 

[300] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

the  screen.  It  was  so  much  better  to  buy  some- 
thing that  could  be  washed  often,  she  had 
thriftily  argued  when  she  bought  it.  And  it  had 
proved  to  be  so  much  prettier  than  the  more 
pretentious  stuffs  that  Ken  had  advocated. 
There  was  a  catch  in  her  breath  as  she  turned 
from  the  screen  to  Ken's  face.  The  bed  he  lay 
on  was  an  after-thought,  put  in  there  later.  A 
faint  sound  put  all  other  thoughts  to  flight.  Ken 
was  stirring. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

jD  Y  the  frantic  beating  of  her  heart  she  knew  she 
•*^  was  not  ready.  Why  hadn't  she  prepared 
what  she  would  say,  how  she  would  act?  She 
wondered  with  futile  anger  at  herself.  Then  she 
pressed  both  hands  hard  against  the  place  where 
her  heart  thumped  tumultuously;  she  wondered 
whether  it  wasn't  bruising  the  walls  it  beat 
against,  it  thumped  so  hard.  As  if  they  were 
dragged  apart  by  a  force  greater  than  himself. 
Ken's  heavy  eyes  opened. 

For  a  moment  he  stared  at  her  in  the  smiling, 
unsurprised  blankness  with  which  a  baby  opens 
its  eyes  to  see,  hanging  over  his  crib,  the  mother's 
face  that  was  his  last  waking  vision  the  night 
before.  Spellbound,  she  saw  consciousness  creep 
into  them,  and,  with  consciousness,  the  inevitable 
pain. 

When  wonder  had  put  to  rout  the  last  remnant 
of  his  sluggish  peace  he  struggled  for  utterance. 
His  wife,  her  eyes  on  him,  in  painful  encourage- 
ment, felt,  in  that  moment,  that  fate  could  hold 
no  greater*  suffering  than  to  helplessly  watch  him 

[302] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

struggle  with  the  bound  muscles  that  forbade 
the  agony  of  his  desire  to  speak.  The  longing 
in  his  black  eyes  tore  at  her  raw  heartstrings. 
The  left  corner  of  his  mouth  drooped  slightly; 
she  saw  that  the  left  arm  lay  along  the  coverlid 
with  a  rigidity  that  was  a  world  apart  from  peace. 
Again  and  again  he  tried  to  speak,  while  she  fran- 
tically tried  to  telegraph  power  to  him,  or  busied 
herself  needlessly  tucking  in  the  counterpane  to 
hide  the  helpless  trembling  of  her  lips. 

"Ruth!"  Surely  he  had  said  her  name!  He 
had  at  last  achieved  it!  She  flushed  rosy-red 
with  the  great  tide  of  her  joy.  From  all  that 
had  been  told,  she  knew  that  he  had  made  a 
great  step  toward  recovery.  But  she  controlled 
herself  and  said,  smiling  with  a  calm  that  made 
all  usual: 

"Yes,  Ken.  Now  close  your  eyes  and  sleep." 
But  he  would  not  be  satisfied.  Evidently  con- 
sciousness had  come  to  him  in  too  strong  a  cur- 
rent for  him  to  be  willing  to  have  his  questions 
pushed  aside.  He  was  impelled  to  speak.  The 
word  he  was  struggling  for  seemed  an  impossible 
achievement.  He  tried  and  tried  until  she  felt 
he  would  go  mad  with  the  strain.  A  dozen 
times  she  tried  to  soothe  him  into  mere  quies- 
cence, which  the  doctor  had  said  was  what  they 
all  must  strive  for.    She  was  heartsick  before  the 

[303] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

fear  that  the  agitation  of  her  coming  might  be 
harmful  to  him.  She  filled  the  ice-cap  with 
shaved  ice  from  the  next  room;  she  patted  his 
cheek  and  petted  him;  she  talked  in  cheerful  dis- 
connectedness about  every  sick-room  detail  that 
occurred  to  her — ^the  light,  more  covering,  the 
medicine  she  was  giving  him.  But  every  time, 
as  inexorably  as  fate,  as  soon  as  there  was  a  pause 
in  her  monologue,  she  could  see  the  poor  lips 
struggling  to  form  that  insistent  word.  At  last 
it  came: 

"Wh-when— " 

She  knew  without  asking  the  rest  of  the  sen- 
tence. 

"An  hour  ago.  I  started  as  soon  as  I  got  the 
message,"  she  said,  in  quiet  tenderness.  His 
eyelids  drooped  from  weariness  for  some  minutes. 
But  when  he  opened  them  again  it  was  evident 
he  was  not  satisfied.  He  was  trying  to  speak 
again.  Would  nothing  she  could  do  put  an  end 
to  that  piteous  struggle?  Still,  even  to  her  pain 
and  terror,  it  was  evident  that  the  word  came 
more  easily: 

"For — give!"  For  all  his  effort,  it  was  in  a 
hesitating,  husky  whisper. 

"Oh,  my  dear  love — "  As  she  was  speaking 
she  saw  a  big  tear  gather  in  his  eye  and  tremble 
there. 

[304] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

She  threw  herself  on  her  knees  beside  the  bed. 
Her  instinct  was  to  overwhelm  him  with  her 
love,  tell  him  she  was  the  one  to  plead  for  par- 
don, sweep  him  away  with  the  torrent  of  her 
aching,  remorseful,  passionate  tenderness.  But 
with  the  impulse  came  the  knowledge  that  she 
must  not  do  it.  Whatever  happened,  her  place 
was  to  calm  and  reassure  him.  So,  with  the  hands 
that  longed  to  draw  the  heavy  head  to  her  breast, 
she  wiped  carefully  with  a  cool  fresh  handkerchief 
the  tear.  Had  any  living  being  ever  seen  a  tear 
in  Ken's  eyes  before? 

"Of  course  I  forgive  you,"  she  said,  with  the 
calmest  maternalism  she  could  manage.  Then, 
with  the  ache  in  her  throat  almost  choking  her 
utterance,  she  added,  to  throw  a  reassuring 
lightness  over  it  all,  "If  you  say  so,  we'll  just 
make  up." 

The  bit  of  transparent  playing  served  its  part. 
Something  that  seemed  Hke  a  smile  trembled 
for  a  moment  over  his  hps.  But  in  the  peace 
brought  by  the  comfort  that  he  craved  his  weari- 
ness again  overpowered  him.  With  the  same 
wholesome  habit  that  makes  a  sick  baby  sink 
into  sleep  that  Mother  Nature  provides  as  her 
best  medicine,  almost  instantaneously  it  seemed, 
he  slept  again. 

Again  Ruth  was  left  to  her  solitary  watching. 

[305] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

But  this  time  hope  made  her  breath  flutter  hys- 
terically in  her  throat.  To  calm  herself,  she  went 
over  in  her  mind  each  moment  since  her  arrival, 
rehearsed,  to  tell  the  doctor,  the  exact  soimd- 
value  of  each  word  he  had  said.  Surely  the  sec- 
ond word  had  come  more  easily  than  the  first, 
and  the  third  one  almost  normally.  And  they 
had  told  her  he  had  not  been  able  to  make  a 
really  intelligible  sound  before  she  came — no, 
it  was  not  that  she  was  better  able  to  interpret. 
The  last  word  had  been  as  distinct  as  any  one 
could  say  it.  And  the  smile  had  been  almost 
like  Ken's  own.  As  Ken  sank  into  a  deeper 
slumber  she  went  to  the  window  and  pulled  the 
shade  out  so  she  could  peer  from  behind  it.  The 
sun  was  low;  it  must  be  late  afternoon. 

She  heard  the  hall  door  open  cautiously.  Was 
that  the  nurse  or  the  doctor.'*  Soon  a  man's 
heavier  tread  told  her  it  was  not  the  nurse.  The 
doctor  came  into  the  room. 

WTiile  she  was  telling  him,  in  tones  whose  hope- 
ful excitement  struggled  through  the  constraint 
she  put  upon  herself,  all  that  had  happened  the 
nurse  came  in  from  her  outing.  Then,  as  the 
nurse  was  taking  off  her  street  things.  Will 
Cowperthwaite  came  back.  So,  since  Ward  was 
plainly  sleeping  quietly,  they  all  withdrew  into 
the  next  room  to  talk  over  the  case  without  dan- 

[306] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

ger  of  disturbing  him.  With  each  detail  that  she 
added  the  doctor  nodded  his  head  in  satisfaction, 
and  the  tension  of  Cowperthwaite's  firm  lips  re- 
laxed, and  in  his  eyes  was  a  quiet  smile. 

Finally  the  doctor  gave  his  opinion: 

"It  looks  very  hopeful  to  me/'  he  said.  "Un- 
doubtedly the  clot  is  being  absorbed.  At  this 
stage  nobody,  of  course,  can  be  sure  whether  he 
will  recover  completely  or  not.  I  think  the  sag- 
ging of  the  muscles  of  the  left  side  is  lessened. 
But  he  hasn't  moved  that  arm  yet,  has  he?  That 
will  be  the  final  test.  If  he  moves  his  fingers  I 
would  say  that,  barring  some  additional  trouble 
— and  you  can't  be  too  careful  to  avoid  excite- 
ment that  might  occasion  a  relapse — I  would  say 
he  will  probably  recover  completely.  Now" — 
turning  to  the  nurse — "I'll  have  to  call  up  an- 
other hospital  for  a  night-nurse.  All  those  I  have 
called  for  are  busy." 

"We  don't  need  any  one  else."  Ruth  spoke 
quickly.     "I'll  relieve  the  nurse." 

That  lady  began  to  look  dubious. 

"I'm  afraid  I  can't  hold  out,"  she  had  begun, 
when  Ruth  said,  with  a  touch  of  temper: 

"I  think  you  won't  be  burdened.  What  on 
earth  do  you  think  a  wife  is  for?  I'll  take  care 
of  him  to-night." 

"But  you  must  be  tired  from  your  journey." 

[3071 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

Cowperthwaite's  tone  was  kindness  itself.  The 
doctor,  too,  was  most  solicitous. 

"I  rested  all  the  way  here,"  Ruth  said,  briefly, 
even  while  the  recollection  of  the  long  agony  of 
the  railroad  train  rose  in  her  mind.  The  doctor 
was  persistent  in  his  solicitude — ^he  was  not  en- 
tirely impervious  to  her  charm.  But  Ruth  over- 
ruled them  all,  thinking,  in  her  heart,  that  she 
would  save  Ken  as  much  as  possible  from  such 
half-hearted  service. 

With  the  nurse  in  charge  again,  the  wife  had 
time  to  slip  out  and  arrange  the  household  in 
preparation  for  a  possible  long  siege  of  sickness. 
Cowperthwaite  was  sent  out  on  errands,  the 
maids  received  instructions,  there  was  a  bewil- 
dering amount  of  ordering  over  the  'phone,  every 
one  did  his  part.  Even  the  nurse  moved  with 
less  deliberation.  A  new,  strong,  vigorous  force 
had  come  into  the  stricken  house,  and  every  one, 
even  if  he  were  inconvenienced  by  it,  felt,  in  his 
heart,  it  was  well.  Since  hope  was  allowed  her, 
in  Ruth's  sanguine  mind  it  became  certainty. 
When  she  was  where  it  would  not  disturb  Ken, 
she  hummed  as  she  made  her  arrangements. 
Trunks  and  closets  were  ransacked,  fresh  white 
frocks  were  dragged  out.  Ruth  put  herself  into 
as  near  an  approach  to  a  nurse's  uniform  as  pos- 
sible, thinking,  as  she  arranged  the  rich,  red  coils 

[308] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

of  her  hair  before  the  mirror,  that  Ken  would 
surely  find  her  pleasanter  to  look  upon  than  that 
"machine"  down-stairs. 

After  this  revivifying  period,  "Ken  woke  and 
the  nurse  gave  him  a  few  spoonfuls  of  broth, 
which  he  swallowed,  although  with  great  difiB- 
culty.  He  was  made  ready  for  the  night  and  the 
nurse  went  to  bed  in  the  adjoining  room.  Cow- 
perthwaite  had  decided,  so  as  to  be  ready  in  case 
she  needed  help,  to  throw  himself,  ready-dressed, 
on  a  couch  in  the  study  down-stairs.  When  the 
maids  had  locked  things  up  and  all  was  quiet, 
not  even  Cowperthwaite  making  a  sound,  she 
made  herself  as  comfortable  as  she  could  in  the 
big  chair  that  had  been  brought  up  for  her  from 
the  study,  to  watch  by  Ken  through  the  long 
hours  of  the  night. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

npHE  tiny,  softly  shaded  glow  of  the  night-lamp 
^  came  from  a  Uttle  table,  placed  in  a  far  corner 
of  the  room  where  even  the  glow  could  not  reach 
Ken's  eyes  and  hurt  them.  Wrapping  a  rug 
about  her,  she  put  her  head  on  the  cushiony  back 
of  the  chair  and  closed  her  eyes  with  a  restful 
sigh.  There  was  no  sound  but  the  regular 
breathing  of  the  sleeping  man.  Her  mind  was 
freed  from  the  fear  that  had  been  crushing  her. 
A  great  peace  fell  on  her. 

In  her  quiescence  the  present  vanished.  She 
was  lost  in  the  memories  the  room  invoked.  All 
the  hopes  were  as  real  as  though  the  past  had  not 
long  ago  engulfed  them,  the  vague  sentiment,  the 
fluctuating  emotion,  the  sharp  intrusions  of  for- 
bidding fear.  When  she  opened  her  eyes  nar- 
rowly, each  detail,  seen  through  the  soft  haze  of 
the  tiny  light,  meant  a  never-forgotten  moment, 
some  eager  discussion,  some  melting  tenderness, 
some  secret  shopping  excursion  when  a  new  self- 
consciousness  struggled  vainly  with  a  soft  and 
tremulous* 'pride.     She  recalled  that  when  she 

[310] 


AS   CAESAR'S   WIFE 

chose  the  paper  on  the  walls  Ken  had  gone  with 
her.  And  two  of  the  simple  pictures  he  had 
brought  home.  She  remembered  just  where  she 
had  stood  under  the  side-light  across  the  room 
when  he  had  brought  the  first  one  to  her.  It 
was  one  that  had  been  in  his  own  room  in  boy- 
hood, a  silly  little  picture  with  much  bright  pri- 
mary color  of  a  furbelowed  little  girl  and  a  curly 
dog.  He  had  been  transported  when  he  saw  it 
in  some  second-hand  shop  and  had  come  home 
in  touching  exultation  to  show  it  to  her. 

They  all  came  thronging  to  her,  these  recollec- 
tions that  for  so  long  she  hoped  she  had  for- 
gotten. Now  something  rose  in  her,  an  impel- 
ling, insistent  passion  that  seemed  beating  madly 
against  bonds  in  its  struggle  to  be  freed.  With 
an  impatient  gesture  of  her  arms  she  yielded  and 
went  blindly  to  it — the  screen  that  hid  that  comer 
of  the  room. 

She  drew  the  screen  away.  There  everything 
was,  undisturbed.  She  had  never  allowed  any- 
thing to  be  put  up  in  the  attic  or  given  away, 
though  she  had  been  often  tempted.  Now  the 
fate  of  the  moment  was  on  her  and  she  suflfered 
as  she  looked. 

There  is  nothing  on  earth  so  incredibly  touch- 
ing as  the  soft  nest  that  has  been  builded  for  a 
little  baby;  a  swinging  nest  this  was,  of  delicate 

[311] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

white  wicker,  all  lined  with  rosiness,  lace-shaded 
and  heaped  with  fleece.  The  pink  ribbons  of 
the  httle  hamper  were  so  little  faded  that,  in 
the  soft  light,  they  looked  as  fresh  as  the  day 
she  had  tied  them  crisply.  She  knew  each  dainty 
stitch  of  the  tiny  things  that  filled  it.  Yes,  the 
fate  of  the  moment  was  on  her.  She  leaned 
against  the  wall,  with  her  eyes  hidden  in  her 
trembling  hands  while  the  salt  waves  broke  over 
her. 

A  somid  coming  from  the  bed  startled  her  as 
if  she  had  been  doing  something  guilty.  She 
brushed  the  tears  from  her  eyes  and  drew  the 
screen  back  to  its  place. 

"Ruth!"  This  time  he  was  calling  clearly. 
In  a  moment  she  was  beside  him.  "Water, 
please,"  he  said,  quite  naturally,  and  smiled  as 
she  bent  over  him  to  smooth  the  white  lock  out 
of  his  eyes. 

Her  heart  brimming  like  the  glass  she  filled 
for  him,  she  brought  the  water.  It  was  infinitely 
sweet  to  tend  him;  after  all,  this  was  the  first  real 
thing  she  had  been  able  to  do  for  him  since  she 
had  come.  And,  before,  Ken's  boundless  strength 
had  never  been  very  tolerant  of  coddling.  He 
tried  to  raise  his  head,  but  that  was  too  hard  for 
him.  It  fell  back  on  the  pillow.  With  an  ache 
in  her  throat,  she  raised  his  head  with  one  hand, 

[312] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

cooing  to  him  some  soft,  incoherent,  mother- 
sounds  as  she  anxiously  raised  the  cup  so  he 
could  drink. 

He  tried  patiently.  It  was  hard  for  him  to 
swallow.  At  first  he  spilled  it.  His  eyes  tried 
to  tell  her  how  parched  he  was. 

"  Try  it  this  way,  dear."  Her  face  was  wet  with 
tears  as  she  raised  his  head  still  higher.  This  time 
he  could  drink;  with  each  difficult  swallowing 
strength  seemed  flowing  in  to  him.  When  it  was 
over  he  sighed  with  content  and  lay  quiet  again. 

She  held  his  head  on  her  arm  while  she  turned 
and  plumped  up  the  pillow.  Her  arms  took  on 
the  inimitable  curve  of  motherdom;  she  whis- 
pered soft,  silly  things  to  him  as  she  worked. 
And  in  his  weakness,  with  all  of  life's  currents 
beginning  painfully  to  resume  their  wonted  chan- 
nels, the  eternal  earth-croon  in  her  voice  strength- 
ened him  as  the  passionate  adoration  that  lay 
pulsating  just  back  of  it  could  not  have  done. 

She  resumed  her  seat,  but  something  was  mak- 
ing him  restless.  He  kept  moving  his  heavy  head 
from  side  to  side  and  glancing  at  her,  as  if  op- 
pressed by  some  wish  he  had  not  strength  to 
utter.  At  last  his  well  hand  went  up,  with  an 
undefined,  groping  motion  to  the  pillow  beside 
him.  With  the  hot  tears  springing  to  her  eyes^ 
it  was  given  to  her  to  understand. 

[313] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

She  put  her  head  down  on  the  pillow  beside 
him,  her  rounded  cheek  against  his  where  the 
Hnes  had  been  graven  so  deep.  He  gave  a  sigh 
of  utter  satisfaction,  and  his  well  hand  drew  her 
face  closer  to  his  a  moment,  then  it  fell  away. 
Her  heart  filled  to  overflowing  and  she  reached 
her  arm  across  the  long,  lax  helplessness  of  him 
to  the  other  poor  hand,  that  lay  wide  open  on  the 
coverlid,  as  if  it  asked  for  something — it  too. 

Her  hand  caressed  his — nestled  there.  There 
was  the  feeling  of  benignant  forces  all  about  them. 
Something  happened — ^her  breath  suspended,  she 
watched  the  miracle.  With  the  contact  of  the 
warm  life  current  that  flowed  through  her  vig- 
orous, gentle  hand,  the  big  loose  fingers  that  she 
touched  curled,  instinctively,  inevitably,  shutting 
weakly  over  hers! 

She  shut  her  lips  together  to  keep  the  sound 
back.  Hysterical  words  were  rising  in  her  throat 
— sobs,  laughter,  prayers. 

They  beat  so  against  the  barrier.  "The  best 
the  doctor  hoped  for!  He  has  moved  them !  The 
dear  fingers !  God  has  heard  me !  I  am  forgiven ! 
He  wiU  be  well!" 

Whether  he  himself  understood  what  had  hap- 
pened, the  import  of  that  uncertain  grasping, 
she  couldn't  tell  then.  But  his  eyes  met  hers  as 
she  moved-  to  look  more  closely.   And  in  the  child- 

[314] 


AS    CAESAR'S    WIFE 

like  dependence  that  weakness  brings,  the  deep 
eyes  clung  to  hers,  asking,  humbly,  if  he  had  not 
done  well. 

Thus  they  stayed  for  long  peaceful,  magical 
moments,  while  the  thankfulness  that  filled  her 
heart  seemed  to  deafen  her  ears  with  triumphant 
organ -peals.  Over  and  over  again  they  came; 
"He  has  moved!  He  will  be  well!"  Yet  it 
seemed  to  be  the  very  next  instant  that  that 
blessed  assurance  had  become  the  accustomed 
and  normal  thing. 

Again  the  sick  man  dropped  to  sleep.  In  the 
absolute  quiet,  her  thoughts  gradually  drifted 
off  into  happy  reveries;  the  day  of  their  first 
meeting;  the  disquieting  emotions  of  their  mar- 
riage; those  days  when  she  had  gathered  together 
all  that  lay  behind  that  screen.  Her  eyes  fol- 
lowed her  thoughts.  Her  thoughts  went  back 
to  Ken  again  —  to  the  tumultuous  days  of  his 
wooing. 

"You  always  swept  me  before  you,  hushed  and 
breathless,"  she  thought.  The  sick  man  stirred, 
moved  uncomfortably.  "It's  that  end  of  the 
pillow-case  that's  bothering  him,"  she  thought, 
folding  it  under  with  one  of  her  vigorous  motions. 
Her  eyes  drifted  again  to  the  screened  comer. 
And  so,  in  the  quiet,  since  there  was  no  one  to 
be  pained  by  it  but  herself  who  knew  the  pain 

[315] 


AS    CAESAR'S   WIFE 

was  blessed,  she  opened  up  that  comer  of  her 
heart  where  the  wound  was  that  had  never  healed. 
"They  never  let  me  hold  my  little  baby.  How 
could  I  know  it  would  be  so  heavenly  sweet  just 
to  pet  and  lov6  you  and  forgive?" 


THE    END 


A     000  136  735 


